Under a Violet Moon
by Kaana Moonshadow
Summary: Having accepted her fate as the Shardbearer, Keridwen Farlong can do nothing but refuse when one of her companions offers to lead her away from it all before the final battle begins... but we all know how well Bishop accepts a 'No', do we? AU NWN2
1. Prologue

Under a Violet Moon

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine._

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**Prologue**

She stood on the battlements and looked onto the fields that lay in the shadow of the Keep, and her mind wandered while the wind tugged at the collar of her tunic and played softly with her chestnut-coloured hair.

She had come to this place shortly after their return to the stronghold. The fight had been vicious, but the bridges had been destroyed in the end, and now the Keep prepared for the Shadow army's arrival. Keridwen had been silent all the way back to Crossroad Keep while Khelgar and his clan brothers had bragged loudly about Ironfist strength in battle, amusing her Greycloaks and lifting the spirit of their little strike force noticeably.

Bishop had remained silent as well. He had not said a word to her or the men he was leading, but she had felt his eyes on her back all the way like flames flickering across her skin, and she had tried to ignore him as best as she could, not knowing what to say to him. Daeghun had walked silently beside her, his sudden appearance during their fight with the Shadow priests a balm to her weary self, and had offered her some sort of comfort in his own unique way. It had eased her troubled feelings to know that he was standing by her side after all, enough to allow herself a brief moment of peace while she had watched the sun setting the sky on fire as it sunk beneath the horizon, awed by the simple beauty of nature.

Her moment of peace had ended, however, as soon as they had reached the gates. Kana had been there with Nevalle and the rest of her companions, all cheering the heroes who had returned safely from another glorious battle, and suddenly, as she had watched their hopeful and expectant expressions, it had been too much for her. Responsibility had been draped around her like a cloak once more, and she could feel it dragging her down slowly into the mud. The Sword of Gith had hung at her side, its eery aura of otherworldliness resonating strongly with the shard in her chest, and she had felt an almost desperate desire to return to her Captain's suite to leave the sword in her weapon rack, just to be free of its powerful song for a while.

She had made her excuses, ignoring the puzzled looks of the faces of her companions who had obviously expected some kind of celebration, and had taken off to her quarters after giving some last orders to Kana, closing the heavy oak doors of her suite firmly behind her with a small sigh of relief.

She had laid the Sword of Gith on her bed, maintaining her gear quickly before she had finally walked across the room and reached for the katana that hung in its own weapon rack on the wall. Her fingers had stroked longingly across the smooth black scabbard, and with one fluid motion, she had drawn the blade.

The moonlight had flickered across its keen edge like a blue flame, and Keridwen had felt her heart ache as the familiar feeling of Shiranui's gentle magic flooded her being. It was so different from the silver sword's hungry call for battle that she could feel tears stinging in her eyes. She had been one with the blade the moment she had touched it so many years ago during another Harvest Fair, and that she now had to wield an alien weapon for the final battle was a torment to the weaponmaster's soul that none of her companions would ever truly understand. The Sword of Gith was a part of her body, true, but Shiranui was a part of her **soul**, and nothing would ever change that.

For a long moment, she had simply relished the intimate feeling between her and the blade and had let herself become one with it once more. Then, with another sigh, she had sheathed it with great skill and held the scabbard on eye level, bowing slightly before putting it back onto its rack.

Keridwen knew that it would be prudent to find some rest. They had only been able to slow down the approach of the Shadow army after all, and it was most likely that they would see it standing at their frontgates soon enough, and if that happened, the fight would be terrible. But her mind had still been too occupied with the day's recent events, and so she had decided to make her way to the deserted battlements instead, to wander under the dark nightsky and get lost in her thoughts.

She did not know how long she had stood there, staring out into the night, as she heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching. She did not need to turn around to know who had come to the battlements, as she had recognised his stride, but she did turn nonetheless. He stood close by, leaning casually against the stone wall, watching her. To any observer, the man would certainly seem calm and relaxed enough, but Keridwen knew better.

Bishop never relaxed, at least not really. She had always thought that the man resembled his wolf companion far more than any human, and just like his canine friend, Bishop was always ready to fight, always ready to turn the hunter into the hunted. Keridwen wondered why this had never bothered her before.

She did not know what to make of him. First, there had only been animosity between them. Bishop had been forced to help her by her foster-uncle, and this simple fact had clouded their relationship right from the start. Bishop had not even tried to mask his anger about her "family blackmail", as he had called it, and had focused all his bad tempers and harsh replies on her instead.

Keridwen had been strangely fascinated by his attitude. As a weaponmaster, learning to control her emotions had been an important part of her education, as her masters had always insisted that only a calm and focused mind could **truly** wield a weapon, that only if she learned to control herself, she would finally be able to become one with the blade and its intricate dance. She had never met a man like Bishop before who seemed to show his emotions so easily, who never tried to hide his thoughts or feelings and who did not care if he offended others with his caustic (and surprisingly adequate) replies.

When he had told Keridwen that he wanted to keep travelling with her, even after his debt was payed, she had been surprised. She had thought that he would grab his weapons as soon as they reached the Flagon and would walk away for good. But instead, he had stayed, and at first, Keridwen had never doubted that this had been a good and profitable decision for both sides. But then, things had changed.

The change had been almost too subtle. In the beginning, his replies had lost none of their harsh quality, but between his occasional insults, they had started to talk with each other. Slowly, Keridwen had come to know bits and pieces of the man's past and had shared some stories of her own. After a while, she had to admit that she admired his sharp eyes and quick wit, and that she had come to trust his opinion. And even though his tongue never truly lost its sharp edge, he seemed less hostile and more approachable when she was around, and Keridwen had been content with this strange kind of comradery that had developed between them. But then, he had started to touch her.

Although, not really. He had never _touched_ her. The brush of a shoulder against another in the narrow hallways of a dungeon. The brief touch of a hand on her back whenever he passed her by. She would never have thought twice about it if she had not noticed the look in his eyes.

_I do not like the way he looks at you._

Ironically, it had been Casavir who had finally opened her eyes. At first, Keridwen had thought that her paladin companion had exaggerated. But in the long nights and days that had followed their somewhat awkward discussion in the Flagon, she had watched Bishop more closely, and it was then that she had realised how often he seemed to touch her accidentally. And the longer they travelled together, the more often these touches were accompanied by a look in his eyes that she could not quite read.

Longing, hatred, confusion, anger, tenderness – all these emotions and more seemed to be woven into his hazel eyes whenever he looked at her these days, and his inner turmoil made them burn with an intensity that startled her, maybe even frightened her a little. For someone who had always found comfort in her ability to control her emotions, Keridwen found Bishops raw display of feeling fascinating and disturbing at the same time. She secretly feared that one day, he would do something rash and would force her to do something to him she knew she would regret in the aftermath, but he never crossed that particular line.

On the one hand, she was glad that he didn't. She was at war, after all. First hunted by the githyanki and then fighting against the return of the King of Shadows to the Material Plane, she had been drawn into events that were far more important than her own feelings, whatever they may be, and so she had focused on the tasks at hand, fulfilling her duties as the new Captain of Crossroad Keep.

On the other hand, she really did not know what she would have done if he had ever tried to touch her in a more than friendly way. There was another line with Bishop that she simply could not cross. She knew it was there, because she had learned to walk along its edges in the past few months, but whenever she had crossed it accidentally in the beginning, he had shut her out. It was almost as if he was afraid to let her come too close, as if he wanted her to keep away from him.

Whenever she had crossed that line he had drawn around himself, he had seemed to curl into a hedgehog position, prickly on all sides, and had lashed out with that sharp tongue of his until she had left him alone, and it had taken days before he allowed her to speak with him again. So she had finally learned how far she could gently push him before he pushed her back, and now, she moved carefully along the edge of his inner self, but unable to get anywhere near it. So what was she supposed to think of a man who looked at her this way and yet did not allow her to come any closer?

She studied him as he leaned against the wall, an unreadable expression on his face, his dark eyes watchful. He raised an eyebrow in response to her questioning stare, and she cast him a small smile before she turned her gaze away from him and onto the fields once more.

"There is death in the air tonight.", Keridwen said without thinking. She heard the faint creaking of his leather armour as he approached her slowly, his voice set in its usual mocking tone.

"There has always been death in the air since you have recovered that silver sword of yours, Captain."

Keridwen sighed. He was right, of course. As soon as Garius truly realised **what** they had remade in the smoldering ruins of West Harbor, his attack would be swift and merciless and solely directed at her, with only the Keep standing in his way.

Bishop leaned again with his back against the wall, but he was close enough for her to smell a faint waft of wine upon him. If she moved only a little to her left, her shoulder would brush softly against his arm. But she simply continued to stare out into the night, unmoving, and it was then that the moon suddenly caught her eye. Selune was still rising in the east, but instead of the bright bluewhite light that had played along Shiranui's edge only hours ago, it seemed as if dark clouds had approached from the Mere in the south and east, distorting its light and making the moon shine with an almost otherworldly purple glow.

"The moon looks strange tonight."

She could see him turning his head from the corner of her eye, following her gaze with his own eyes. He shrugged. "Well, now. It does indeed." She almost felt his stare burning across her skin like a brand as it wandered back to her, studying her face, and his voice tensed ever so slightly as he spoke. "But you still haven't answered my question, Captain."

Now it was Keridwens turn to tense ever so slightly, and a soft sigh escaped her lips.

His question.

They had been on their way to the bridges, Keridwen leading the way, as a hand had suddenly closed firmly around her arm, and she had looked over her shoulder to see Bishop bending towards her to growl quietly into her ear.

"We need to talk."

Convinced that his sharp eyes had scouted more trouble on the road ahead of them, she had nodded and had turned around to look at him expectantly, only to be mildly taken aback by the grim expression on his face.

"You!", he had growled at Khelgar and his men the second as they started to gather around them, "Shove off!"

Khelgar had huffed indignantly, obviously ready to start another brawl of words right here and there, but Keridwen had simply nodded in agreement, and so the dwarf had shut his mouth tight and moved on, grumbling under his breath as he did so, and one by one, the men had fallen in behind him.

Bishop had followed them with his eyes until they had reached a turn of the road and halted, waiting for them. He had been tense, and Keridwen had been strongly reminded of a feline predator that crouched on the ground, readying itself for the leap that would finally bring down its prey.

"What do you wish to discuss, Bishop?", she had asked gently. That was one of the things she had learned very quickly about the man. Showing some temper would only provoke his sharp tongue, as Khelgar and her other companions had found out soon enough. But whenever she had addressed him in her calm and quiet voice, he had talked.

His dark eyes had bored into hers, and there had been an emotion hidden in them that was quite different from his usual inner turmoil, one she could not read.

"Look, Captain, I know that the paladin and this… _knight (he had snarled the word that he usually used whenever he spoke about Nevalle with so much contempt in his voice that Keridwen had almost winced. That she had not only been made Captain of the Keep, but also had been knighted as a reward after her victorious battle for Castle Never had been a sharp bone in his throat for a while, and there had been days when Kerdiwen had thought that their relationship would never recover from that blow_) do still believe that there's hope, but I can see the truth they're trying to hide behind their pathetic codes of honour. War's about to hit this place hard, Captain – and you aren't going to win! "

She had sighed as she had felt the weight of her responsibility pressing down on her once more.

"You cannot be sure of that.", she had replied calmly, but her heart had ached silently.

He had made an angry move towards her and had reached for her shoulders, his grip hard enough to bruise. His voice had been nothing more than an angry hiss as he spoke.

"You know, with that _stubborn_ little mind of yours, you were destined to run up against something bigger and more dangerous than you one day, and believe me, Captain, that day's coming! I say we head out now while we still can and let Neverwinter fall."

His hands had reached out to cup her face, and his fingers had stroked almost gently across her skin.

"Just you and me, Keri, that's what I'm saying. I can guide the two of us out of here, nobody has to know!"

She had shivered. Not from the fact that he had stood so close, caressing her face, and talked to her about treason in a voice that seemed to stroke like velvet across her skin. It was the fact that he had called her by her name that suddenly made goosebumbs rise all over her body, and her eyes had widened noticeably in surprise.

All these weeks they had travelled together, he had never called her by her name. Paladin, Goatgirl, Captain… he had called noone by their names, for that matter. Keridwen had always thought that this was his way to show people how less he actually cared about them. A paladin was always exchangeable, after all. But calling the man Casavir would have meant to acknowledge him as a person, and Bishop never acknowledged anything.

And now he had called her Keri. But did that mean something to him?

"Captain, the scout has arrived with news from the bridges!", one of her Greycloaks had called suddenly from their post down the road, and had startled the two of them out of their dispute. Bishop had made a step backwards and had removed his hands from her face, but his dark eyes had never left hers while he had waited for her reply.

Keridwen knew that she should have felt something. Joy, fear, sorrow, resentment – it wouldn't have mattered, for it would have been only human. She sensed that this was probably as far as he would ever go to show his feelings for someone, no matter what. But all that she felt was simple resignation instead. She had accepted her role in this particular play long ago, and now, there was no turning back.

"There are people counting on me, Bishop.", she had answered as gentle as she could. "I would never let them down."

"That's good to hear, woman.", he had growled with a slight snarl. "But that doesn't answer my question."

"Maybe. But that's the only answer I can give you."

His expression had darkened, just as she had expected. But she knew that there was nothing she could actually do about it, and so she had simply turned and had started to walk down the road where she could see Daeghun now waiting with her men, as she had heard a cold voice from behind her.

"Well, actually, I thought as much. These people are like stones, you know, and this war's an ocean – you might have made it out alive, Captain, but they're already dragging you down."

Keridwen had turned sharply, startled by the sneering tone of his voice, and had seen him standing there, his face now void of any perceptible emotion as all his masks fell back into place. She had felt a small sting of regret in her heart as she saw the look in his eyes, but had kept on walking anyway.

The wind freshened up noticeably and brought with it a distinct smell of rot and decay. Bishop remained silent, obviously waiting for an answer. She turned reluctantly to meet his eyes and was startled by the unusual seriousness she saw in them. She kept her silence, still searching for the words that would make him understand, as she felt compelled by his surprisingly calm demeanour to at least try and explain her decision as best as she could.

"Look, Bishop, I know that you probably won't understand this, but my place is here now. I wield the _Rituals of Purification_, and carry a part of the Sword of Gith in my chest. I have to fight this war."

He simply looked at her, his eyes never leaving her face, and she began to feel a little awkward under his dark and scrutinizing stare. Although he stood close enough for her to touch him, it suddenly felt as if he was miles away, and Keridwen felt the sudden and surprisingly strong desire to close this gap between them.

"When this war is over," she replied softly, "and the _King of Shadows_ has been defeated, you can ask me again, and then I will give you my answer."

His expression changed almost too subtle for Keridwen to notice. He simply leaned against the wall, watching her, but she saw his muscles tense ever so slightly and was strongly reminded of a feline predator once more, seizing up its prey. The silence between them seemed to stretch for an eternity, and only as it started to turn into something eery and uncomfortable, Keridwen finally tore her eyes away from his face, feeling a little uneasy, and turned to leave.

"I am sorry, Captain.", she suddenly heard his deep voice from behind. "But I fear I cannot wait that long."

He was upon her in a heartbeat, startling her. One arm went around her torso, pinning her forcefully against his chest, while his other hand reached for her mouth, muffling her scream of surprise. The rough fabric of a cloth was pressed upon her mouth and nose, and Keridwen smelled a biting and sharp aroma before her knees buckled and her legs gave out.

Her view became all blurry, and an icy feeling seemed to emanate from her stomach and paralysed her arms and legs effectively. Her breath became heavy, and although she tried to fight it, she could feel herself gliding rapidly into unconsciousness.

As darkness finally closed in around her, she heard his deep voice whispering softly through the mist that fogged her mind, low and threatening.

"Pleasant dreams, _Captain_."

_*****_


	2. Chapter 1

Under a Violet Moon

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form.  
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_Author's Note:__ A heartfelt 'Thank you' to all my readers and reviewers - I'm very grateful for the feedback, and it truly encourages me to keep the updates coming. As a little gift you can find the first chapter here - I hope you'll enjoy it, and comments and constructive criticism are always welcome. I've seen some people thank their reviewers in the author's note, and since I think that to be a cool thing, I'll stick to that tradition from now on. :)_

_**Kalyane: **Thanks for giving me my first review here - I'm glad that you like the new turn of events. I always thought that Bishop was a man of action who only accepts a 'No' if he wants to, so I'm happy you agree. I see what you mean about the flashback beginning and ending, and I'll keep that in mind for future chapters. _

_**Psychic Koala:** Thank you for your review - the whole prologue is a bit like 'the OC in a nutshell', I know. But I wanted the reader to get a feel for both Keri and her relationship with Bishop before the story continues, so it's good to hear it didn't bore you. Since my first playthrough of the OC, I wondered what would have happened if the KC had actually taken Bishop up on his offer (needless to say I was a bit disappointed that the game did not offer the chance ;) - and this story is the result. Hope you'll enjoy the rest!_

_**Nastrandir:** Thanks a lot for your comment - I'm glad that you enjoyed the prologue, and that you like my version of Bishop. In my opinion, he's a very cool and versatile character with lots of potential, so I really want to do him justice.  
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**1**

_She ran through the ruins of an ancient castle. The moon shone with an eerie purple glow, casting its disturbing light upon the broken walls and shattered stones, and her naked feet made no noise as she hastened through the remains of a once beautiful courtyard._

_Broken columns lined her path, grown with ivy and moss and brambles, and veils of mist rose between the shadowy walls and hung in the air, glowing bloodred in the moonlight. She felt the dead branches of the trees cutting her arms while she ran, and the hem of her long gown entangled itself more than once in the sharp thorns of the brambles, making her stumble, but she kept running, her heart beating like a drum._

_Something was hunting her. She did not know how she knew that she was hunted, for all she could see was the deserted courtyard whenever she looked back over her shoulder, but she could feel its looming presence like a soft breath on her neck, and it seemed to close in around her, watching her from the shadows and taking an almost perverse pleasure in her futile attempt to escape... but she had to try to stay calm, focussed. Fear was the mindkiller, after all... and she would not succumb to it so easily.  
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_She ran around a corner and into a narrow pathway between two large buildings, her feet making soft padding noises as she ran across the broken stone slabs. The walls were decorated with intricate symbols, reminding her of elvish writing... but not quite. There was something strange in the sharp rectangle edges of the buildings, the sturdy mounts of rock so different from the filigrane architecture that the elves preferred for their cities... and yet it felt strangely familiar, as if she had seen a similar ruin long ago... but she quickly returned her focus to the pathway, her eyes searching for an opening that would lead into one of the houses, and hopefully towards freedom. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her foot and she fell flat onto the cold stone floor, gasping in shock. She winced and sat up quickly, reaching for her foot. A long shard of glass stuck deep in her flesh, and dark blood ran slowly across its shining surface and dripped onto the ground._

_The pain was almost unbearable. Her shaking fingers closed firmly around the shard, and she was startled somehow as she could feel it pulsate softly in her palms. But there was no time!_

_She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled sharply. She had expected the pain, but it was almost more than she could bear, and a small cry escaped her tightly pressed lips._

_She opened her eyes again, panting heavily, and felt somewhat relieved that the pain in her foot vanished almost instantly. She stood up carefully, casting a scanning look at her surroundings until her curiosity got the better part of her and her eyes returned to the shard she now held in her hands._

_The shard glowed in an eery iceblue light and pulsated softly in her palms. She experienced a strange feeling of déjà-vu as she could feel the faint song of the shard vibrating through her entire being, but before she could remember what was so familiar about it, a distant howl echoed through the ruins, startling her, and the bloody shard slipped through her shaking fingers and fell onto the floor with a high, musical sound._

_The ground shook ever so slightly. She could feel the vibrations as the ruins around her seemed to come to life, and the looming presence she had felt in the shadows before rejoiced in triumph as it drank deeply from the song the shard sung to her, gathering its strength for the grand finale of its hunt._

_She ran again, down the hallway and through a shattered doorway into a building to her right, her invisible persecutor close on her heels now. She ran from room to room, making her way between broken walls and shattered furniture, heading for the front gates. Just like she had known that she was being followed, she simply _knew_ that she would be save as soon as she found a way out. If she could only escape these ruins, she would be free!_

_She followed another corridor and finally burst into a great hall. She halted, blinded by the bright light of the moon that shone through the missing roof, and tensed. There, down a wide case of stairs, were the gates. Her heart ached as hope began to fill her, and she made a leap towards the stairs and towards freedom as a pair of arms reached out of an alcove behind her and dragged her back forcefully into the shadows. She fought frantically to break the grip that held her, wanting to scream, but a hand was pressed hard upon her mouth while another arm pinned her effectively against a leather-clad chest, and a rough voice hissed into her ear:_

_"Be silent, woman!"_

_She held her breath. The voice stirred a memory, just like the musical pulse of the shard had done, but she was so close! She _needed_ to escape. Just as the thought entered her mind, a deathly silence fell upon the hall, and her eyes widened in fear. The shadow had finally arrived to claim its prey, and now, she was lost._

_Although the moon shone brightly, her persecutor was nowhere to be seen. But she felt its otherwordly presence as it searched the hall, knowing that she was close and still within its grasps. As its probing mind wandered across the alcove, she tensed and tried to break free from her captor once more. But his arms held her pressed against his chest in a vice-like grip, and his voice was an angry whisper as he spoke:_

_"Stop squirming, Captain_, _or _by the gods_, I will kill you with my own bare hands!!"_

_Captain._

_This simple word made all the walls around her memory come tumbling down in an instant, and in a heartbeat, she remembered everything. The shard. This place. His voice._

_The shadow was still out there, searching, but she could feel its growing frustration resonate through the walls as his ongoing pursuit carried no results. She had unwittingly entered the hunting-ground of another, and by doing so, had successfully stepped out of its reach._

_She did not know how long they stood in the alcove, holding their breath, until the shadow finally retreated from the hall, defeated. She could feel a small sigh of relief escape her captor's lips as he, too, sensed the retreating thoughts of their enemy. His breath was warm against her skin, and he lessened his vice-like grip a little, but still did not let go of her completely. His voice was a low rumble in her ear as he spoke._

_"He's gone now. Let's go and find a way out of this cursed place, now shall we?__"_

_She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning into his embrace for the first time. It did not matter anymore if she would ever escape these ruins._

_He had finally decided to come to her aid, and from now on, she would be safe._

*****

The passageway ended at a narrow staircase. The strange purple light of the moon fell through the small entrance of the cave and illuminated his way as Bishop stepped onto the stairs and walked swiftly through the exit and into the violet shadows under the trees.

Leaving the Keep without getting noticed had presented a real challenge, even for a man with his remarkable skills. Despite the late hour, there had been reinforced Greycloak patrols all over the area, and so he had finally been forced to leave the Keep through another secret passageway in its basement that he had discovered only a few weeks after Keridwen had been made Captain.

Bishop smirked. He knew there had been a reason why he hadn't told anyone about his discovery. But that he would ever use this tunnel that led to the outlines of the woods circling the mountains north and east of the Keep to flee the stronghold with an unconscious Knight-Captain cradled in his arms was one of the things that he had never imagined, not even in his wildest dreams.

Keridwen stirred noticeably, and he felt a small wave of relief wash through him as he lowered her gently to the ground to stretch his arms. She had been so still as they had made their way through the tunnel. The instructions from the old hag he had visited in Port Llast hadn't been too precise about how much of the potion he had to use, and as he had carried Keridwen's still form through the passageway, he had to stop from time to time to check on her breathing because he was afraid that he might have used the wrong dose and had killed her accidentally.

He put his backpack down and reached for his water skin, his throat suddenly dry. Keridwen kept squirming lightly, her arms stroking slowly across the ground, and he frowned. The hag had said that the potion would work for hours, but what could he expect from filthy little hedgealchemists like her? His frown deepened just like his concern while he watched the unconcious woman that lay on the ground before him. They were still too close to the Keep, but if Keridwen awoke now, they would have to make camp no matter what, because he couldn't risk to carry her while she was conscious, even if he bound her arms and legs and would put a gag into her mouth.

She was strong, and pliant, and he knew she would be pissed as soon as she found out what he had done. Although he had never seen her throw a fit before, he had the uneasy feeling that maybe this time, things would be a little different. But that thought reminded him of something.

The rope was made of a slippery material unlike any leather Bishop had ever seen before. The lizardman who had handed it to him had simply stared with its unblinking reptilian eyes as he had asked, denying an answer, but he had had more important things to worry about back then than to show this stinking salamander what he could do with his blades when he was in the right mood.

No matter what material they were made of, only elven ropes made for a better binding, and so he had simply taken his acquisition and had left the damp cellar of the Keep, passing a humming Grobnar who had been happily oblivious to his surroundings except for the motionless blade golem that stood in front of his alchemist work bench.

How she could allow this insane bard to continue with his desastrous experiments was still beyond him!

The rope had an oily black colour and stood out clearly against the fair skin of her wrists. He knelt down to bind her hands, just as he had bound her feet, and paused for a brief moment to check whether the knots were sufficiently strong to hold her, but loose enough so they would not cut into her flesh. He paused as he pondered about using a gag, but dismissed the thought momentarily.

He knew she would be angry, but he didn't want to make her _mad_. Despite her delicate appearance, she was strong, and he really didn't want to know what she would do to him once she awoke and got her hands free again if he had gagged her. Bishop sighed and watched her sleeping form as she lay on the ground before him, still heavily drugged. Her dark hair fell in shaggy strands into her eyes, and one of his hands reached down almost instinctively to brush the hair out of her pale face.

He snarled and caught himself just as his fingers stroked across the soft skin of her cheeks. Foolish, stubborn woman! He should have left her dying in that mouldering shell of a Keep, should have left her rotting along with her _knight friend_ and her duties and her pathetic code of honour.

_But you didn't!_

He snarled again as he heard the familiar mocking voice in his head. Hissing angrily under his breath, he collected his gear and finally reached down to lift Keridwen's bound form roughly into his arms once more, intending to continue with their journey as long as she was still unconscious.

*****

Bishop searched his way through the undergrowth with care while he followed the wooden hills into the mountains, heading for rocky ground. As soon as their friends would discover the departure of their precious leader, they would start searching for her, and he did not want to leave an obvious trail.

Not that he feared that one of those witless Neverwinter scouts could ever follow his trail. Even on his worst day, he was still _ways_ ahead of them. But the wood-elf, Keri's father, was a completely different sort. All it had taken him was one look at the man as they had encountered each other for the first time in the courtyard of the Keep to know that this Daeghun would make a formidable competitor, and Bishop liked to be on the winning side, after all.

Keridwen started to squirm more violently in his arms, and a loud moan escaped her lips. The smallest bit of worry crept into his heart as he stopped in his stride to watch her pale face once more. Her jaw clenched noticeably, and she moved her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but no sound escaped her lips. Bishop frowned. Was this a reaction to the drug?

First, as she had moaned quietly, her breath barely more than a soft whisper against the sensitive skin of his throat, he had simply ignored it. But now, she tensed noticeably in his arms, and her moan sounded as if she was in pain. He lowered her to the ground once more and knelt beside her, watching her wordless struggle, unsure what he should do to ease her pain.

It was then that he realised how quiet the woods had become. He knew these parts well, for not only had he been hunting here night after night they had spent at the Keep, but he had also scouted the route he intended to take tonight, although at that time, he had planned to use it alone if things should finally get a little too rough for his taste.

A distant howl echoed through the forest, and Bishop tensed as a rush of adrenaline flowed through his veins. The wolf howled again, and Bishop knew exactly what it meant.

_Danger is coming!_

He quickly cradled Keridwen in his arms, and without thinking and simply trusting his instincts, he hastened back on the path to the protruding roots of a great oak that he had noticed as he had made his way up the hill earlier, crouching into the small cavity beneath them and pressing Keridwen tightly against his chest.

He heard it then. The shuffle of leather-clad feet through the undergrowth, the distinct clinking of chain armour, both accompanied by an all too familiar moan and the soft rattling of bones. Bishop tensed as his heartbeat quickened, and he didn't need the sweet stench of rotting flesh crawling into his nose to know who had finally arrived.

There were only eight of them. A scouting party then, cursed be his luck, lead by a man with long black hair and a feral look in his eyes that glowed in a truly hellish red light. His undead followers shuffled a few steps behind their leader, the zombies nothing more than mindless brutes, their sole purpose in undeath the devouring of the flesh that still lived.

The skeletons made a much brighter impression, to Bishop's great chagrin, as they seemed to scan the area intensively with their undead senses, and Bishop was thankful that they were walking a good way down the hill and that the wind blew from the West this night so that the vampire wouldn't be able to catch his and Keri's scent.

The undead were almost out of his sight and onto their way down the hill as Keri suddenly stirred in his arms, moaning loudly once more. Bishop cursed himself for deciding against a gag while he quickly pressed a hand over her mouth, muffling the sound and tightening his grip around her chest, and could do nothing but watch in alarm as the vampire tensed noticeably and signaled his little band of cronies to stop.

_Cursed be their supernatural hearing!_

"Be silent, woman!", was all he hissed quietly into Keri's ear, hoping that even in her comatous state, she would hear him. But obviously, she didn't. As soon as he had tightened his grip around her, she had started to squirm once more, and now all he could do was hoping that she wouldn't moan again or things would turn truly nasty.

The vampire stood very still, staring intently at his surroundings, and Bishop could see the man sniffing the air delicately. Keri wouldn't stop her squirming, and in his frustration, he hissed angrily again:

"Stop squirming, Captain, or _by the_ _gods_, I will kill you with my own bare hands!"

Strangely enough, she stopped her struggle. Bishop wondered briefly if he had finally been able to penetrate her drug-fogged mind as the vampire made another signal with his hand, and the whole scouting party fell in behind him, continuing down the hill and vanishing out of sight.

Bishop let out a small sigh of relief. He was glad now that he had decided to leave the Keep, and obviously not a moment too soon! Their little encounter could only mean that the Shadow army was marching up against the Keep, and if that happened, he wanted himself and Keri to be miles and miles away.

Bishop stayed in his crouched position under the roots for another while, waiting. Keri remained silent now, her breathing calm and regular, and he allowed himself to relax a little as the woods remained silent as well. Now that he held her so close, he could smell the sweet scent of her hair and feel the warmth of her body even through his armour, and he caught himself stroking her hair slowly while he inhaled deeply of her scent. He stopped as soon as he realised what he was doing.

What in the nine hells was _wrong_ with him?

But Keri started murmuring as soon as he took his hand away, and so he continued reluctantly with his stroking, simply to calm her down. She was so small. Her sheer presence was normally enough to make him forget that he was almost a head taller than she was, and seeing her on a battlefield, with her katana in hand, was more like watching her perform an intricate dance rather than taking place in a slaughter that would bring swift death to her enemies.

How could she be such a fierce combatant in battle and yet remain the compassionate woman he had travelled with during these past few months?

Bishop's sharp ears suddenly caught the sound of padding paws on dried leafs. He tensed, one hand reaching slowly for his knife, but then Karnwyr trotted down the path, his amber eyes showing an unnatural purple glow in the strange moonlight. His hand let go of the knife and went around Keri once more, his dark eyes piercing his wolf companion with their questioning stare.

"I assume your appearance means the coast is clear again, right?", he asked mostly to himself. The wolf didn't move, but they understood each other without words. Bishop forced his way through the roots and stood, Keri still cradled in his arms, and his legs ached quietly as the blood started to rush back in an instant. Karnwyr watched them intently with these strangely purple eyes before the wolf simply turned around and started to trot along the path once more, scouting their way.

Keri murmured in her sleep, and Bishop lowered his head a little to whisper roughly into her ear. "They're gone now. Let's go and find a way out of this cursed place, now shall we?" She sighed and rubbed her head slowly against his chest, leaning into his embrace, and he could feel the beat of his heart quicken ever so slightly as she did so.

Cursed be her stubborn mind, and cursed be his own foolishness!

The path was steep and got even steeper as he finally reached the slope of the mountains. He had to slow down his pace, as he was carrying an unconscious woman in his arms along with his own weight, and after a while, he had to admit grudgingly to himself that they needed to rest.

His arms burned like fire. Although Keridwen was slender, he had carried her weight for several hours now, and their little encounter had reminded Bishop strongly of the fact that he needed to be prepared for a fight, for he would be unable to defend himself (or her, for that matter) if his arms were too weak to wield his blades properly should they finally encounter more of their undead friends.

The moon was standing high over the trees now, still casting its eerie light. The mountain path widened onto a small plateau lined by crippled pines, and after a quick glance, Bishop decided to choose it as their resting place.

He lowered Keridwens sleeping form carefully to the ground and leaned her against a small boulder before he put down his gear and tried to set up a camp for the two of them. They couldn't risk a fire, but he had heard the murmuring sounds of a small brook nearby and could at least get some water for the two of them while Karnwyr would stay behind, guarding the plateau.

The wind seemed to blow with more force up here in the mountains, and he shivered despite his armour. His fingers reached automatically for his thick woolen cloak, bound tightly to the top of his backpack, as his eyes fell upon Keridwen once more. For a moment, he struggled with himself. Then he stood up and crossed the short distance between them, draping the cloak roughly around her shoulders.

What use would it be to carry the cursed female all this way just to let her die from cold?

As his hands touched her shoulder, she sighed and moved her head a little, her cheek softly caressing his hand. He tensed as his heartbeat quickened noticeably once more. All the way over the hills and into the mountains, she had remained calm, snuggled up in his arms, her breathing even and her face an innocent mask of peace. He remembered how his touch had seemed to ease her pain, and his breath quickened as he watched her sleeping form once more.

Could his touch actually mean something to her?

There was only one way to find out. Bishop sat down and leaned with his back against a tree, his dark eyes never leaving her face while he made himself as comfortable as he could, awaiting the Knight-Captain's return to consciousness.

*****


	3. Chapter 2

Under a Violet Moon

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. ;)_

_I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form._

_Author's Note:__ A heartfelt 'Thanks' again to my reviewers – your comments are highly apprecited, and I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter._

_**Minxie: **__I'm glad you like this twist to the ending of the OC – I like exploring new ground with my stories, so I hope that you'll like the way the story's progressing._

_**Kalyane: **__Thanks, dear – I always felt that Bishop was that kind of character who would stubbornly ignore his own feelings for as long as he could, simply because he hates the feeling of being attached. But I agree with your comment about his sharp senses – his scathing remarks during the game always hit their mark and showed that he indeed understood the motivations and weaknesses of his companions better than most. Funny that he can be so blind to his own feelings, aye? ;)_

_And don't worry about your grammar – you're writing well, and since I'm no native speaker either I make plenty mistakes, too. :)_

_**Psychic Koala: **__Well, now you'll get your wish – the first confrontation between Bishop and the Knight-Captain is nigh. I'm glad that you're enjoying the story so far – and believe me, Bishop will curse himself for his foolishness time and again. ;)_

_*****  
_

**2**

The first thing she noticed as she slowly rose from the purple depths of her dreams was the wind. It was a breeze that tousled her hair and made the leaves rustle in the trees while her cheeks burned uncomfortably with its biting cold. She should have been freezing, the constant tugging of the wind told her as much, but there was warmth surrounding her instead, making her limbs feel heavy and strangely sluggish.

Like fragments of a long forgotten dream, incoherent images flowed through her mind while she hovered at the edge of consciousness. The fiery tip of an arrow searing through a vast blue sky. The ruins of a broken castle, crumbling under a violet moon. Moonlight dancing along the keen edge of a blade. A man and a woman, hiding in the shadows of an alcove, the man laying his arms protectively around the woman.

A part of her longed to remain here in the dark, longed to return to the peaceful depths of oblivion that waited beyond her dreams. But a part of her that was too stubborn to give in nudged her to rise, to come to her senses and to start focussing her cobwebbed mind. These images were nothing more than fleeting distractions, conjured from the deepest regions of her memory. She had to depend on the here and now, had to leave this world of dreams and shadows behind before it would consume her, before her mind was finally too lost to find a way out. But how?

_Open your eyes._

At first, Keridwen thought she was still dreaming. The violet moon and crippled trees reminded her strongly of a dream, a dream about shadows and a shard of broken glass. But then the mist that clouded her mind cleared a little, and her view focused.

She seemed to lie on a rocky plateau, up high in the mountains. Pines lined the place, casting their strangely distorted shadows onto the ground. It was windy, and Keridwen wondered for a brief moment why she wasn't freezing before her clouded gaze fell on the thick woolen cloak that was draped around her shoulders, covering her to the shins. Her head hurt terribly, a dull pain that numbed her normally so sharp senses, and Keridwen moved carefully to lift her hands to massage her temples… and couldn't.

First, there was only confusion. But then, realisation dawned as she continued to struggle. Her hands seemed to be bound, as were her feet. That didn't feel right. She couldn't imagine that she was supposed to be up here in the mountains, alone, in the middle of the night, with her arms and feet bound and left to sleep in the wilderness, but the pain in her head increased as soon as she tried to follow that trail of thought, and she winced.

_Can't think. There's too much pain, too much hurt…_

Another voice echoed through her mind, the voice of an elderly man, deep and powerful, and to Keridwen, it seemed as if these words were accompanied by the memory of grass under her bare feet and the smell of spring flowers in the air, blooming in the bright light of the sun.

_The strength of a weaponmaster does not lie in his ability to wield a weapon, Keri. His _true_ strength lies in his ability to focus his mind, and through this, he gains a degree of control a normal fighter could never aspire to._

The voice was calm and well modulated, and it eased Keridwens pain simply to listen to it.

_Once you have learned to focus your mind, you will find that you will be able to control your feelings as well. Pain can be a distraction in battle, but for a skilled mind, all it will need is a brief moment of concentration to shut it out, and then, you will be in control once more._

Keridwen slowly closed her eyes, letting the voice guide her further through her memory.

_Stay calm, Keri. Focus. And then, when you are ready, let your mind flow._

Keridwen inhaled deeply. The mist of pain surrounded her, flooded her being. She felt as if she was sitting in the middle of a great lake. Banks of mist surrounded her, covering the world in clouds of white and hiding the landscape from her view. A soft breeze suddenly rippled the smooth surface of the lake, stirring the mist. Keridwen imagined that her _will_ was the wind, dancing over the water to drive the white clouds away, and slowly, the mist began to dissipate. After a while, she could make out parts of the shore, lined by large oaks and maples. There were woods surrounding the lake, a vast ocean of shades of green that changed into high, snow-covered mountains, and the farther the mist retreated, the more Keridwen could see from the beauty that surrounded her.

There was a sudden outburst of light as the sun finally broke through the clouds, accompanied by single patches of blue sky, and Keridwen felt all the pain drain from her body as the first rays of light warmed her face, the mist now gone. For a brief moment, she let the beauty of the sun-bathed mountain lake touch her soul before she exhaled slowly and opened her eyes, returning to the here and now with a mind that was sharp and focused once more. But with her focus, the memories returned as well.

"Well, now. Seems like we're finally back among the living, aren't we, Captain?"

Her head turned sharply at the sound of his voice. He was sitting a little to her left, leaning against a tree, and watched her calmly, his dark eyes glittering in the moonlight. His skinning knife was in his hands, as was a piece of wood, and for a moment, she could do nothing but stare at him in astonishment, unable to understand how he could sit there so calmly, carving, while the walls of reason came tumbling down around them.

"What is the meaning of this?", she demanded, her voice surprisingly sharp despite her confusion.

He shrugged as he continued with his wood-carving, looking slightly amused.

"What does it look like?"

A surprisingly strong wave of hot anger washed through her, startling her as it twisted her guts and made her voice even sharper as she replied.

"I don't know, actually. But if you ask for my opinion, I'd say it looks like a man who is making a fool of himself."

His hands stopped dead in their movement, and he looked up, his eyes now narrowed to slits.

"Is that so?" His voice was calm, almost light, but Keridwen could tell from the light tremor in his shoulders that there was rage burning inside him that he could barely keep in check, and she knew she had touched a soft spot.

"And what if I told you, Captain, that this was simply all about a man who's repaying a _debt_?"

She tried to focus on her breathing in an attempt to calm herself as she struggled with the feelings that were washing through her, the confusion, anger and even a hint of fear deepening with each passing moment while she still tried to comprehend what happened to her.

_Stay calm, Keri. Focus. Showing your temper will only provoke him. Let him talk. Try to understand._

"What are you talking about, Bishop?", she asked after a while in her quiet voice.

His lips curled into the familiar mocking half-smile, but there was no amusement in his eyes as he spoke. "Oh yes. I still _owe_ you, Captain, remember? Your uncle saved my life once, and now, I will save yours."

For a moment, she couldn't believe what he was saying. "But we've talked about this before.", she replied, a startled expression on her pale face. "You owe me nothing!"

Bishop's voice was a low purr as he spoke, and his eyes glittered maliciously as he leaned a little closer to whisper softly into her ear, making her shiver despite the warmth of the cloak. "Oh yes, Captain, I still do. But don't worry! Once this unpleasant chain of events is over, I'll be free and clear again, and then, nothing else is going to matter."

He leaned back against the tree, and Keridwen breathed more freely as soon as he had left her personal space. As a weaponmaster, she was not completely defenseless, even in her current state, but she did not understand what mood was riding him tonight and so she needed to be careful. Bishop was a skilled fighter, and right now, the advantage was clearly on his side.

Keridwen sighed. Her back hurt from the long hours she had spent leaning against the boulder, and as she shifted carefully into a more comfortable position, her eyes fell upon the dark rope that effectively bound her ankles and cut into her wrists. She recognized the oily colour of the Lizardling cords, and wondered for a brief moment if she would be able to persuade Bishop to remove her bindings and even the odds a little to her side.

_You will never know until you've tried._

"There is no needs for these bonds, Bishop.", Keridwen replied, her voice as soothing as she could make it. "You know me. Untie me, and we can talk!"

Bishop watched her with interest, his eyes glittering as he still smiled his mocking smile, and the amusement in his eyes told her that he knew exactly what she was playing at but wasn't fool enough to fall for it.

"Well, now. I'm sorry, Captain, but I fear I cannot comply with your kind request. You know,", he cocked his head a little to cast her a sly smile which made another wave of cold shivers run down her spine, "If I untie you now, I fear that you will simply turn around and run back to that little Keep of yours, and believe me, the Keep is no place you want to be in right now."

He stood and walked past her to kneel beside his gear, putting the knife and piece of wood down beside it while Keridwen followed him with her eyes, carefully watching his every move. Suddenly, Bishop paused and turned slowly to look at her, his expression unreadable, but his voice had a strange undertone of mock severity as he spoke.

"Just a word of advice to you, Captain. These ropes won't come off as long as I haven't _decided_ that they come off, so if you continue with your struggling, you will only make things worse for you."

He stared at her, and she nodded, signaling him that she had understood. He half-turned and reached for his water skin to drink deeply before he faced her once more, holding out the skin with a questioning look. Keridwen simply shook her head and looked away from him, her eyes now fixed on the horizon. She did not want him to see her inner turmoil in her eyes, did not want him to realise how much it hurt that he suddenly felt like a complete stranger. She remembered how he had once told her that she would never know him, and until now, she had never realised how true that was. Strangely enough, she felt a small sting of regret pierce her heart as realisation filled her with its bitter truth.

_This makes no sense. _He_ makes no sense._

Keridwen sighed and breathed deeply to calm her troubled mind. Concentrating on her slow breathing, she fought to regain control over the anger and hurt she felt at his betrayal. Although the tension between them had never vanished completely, she had come to think of him as a friend, and that he would betray her trust in him like that awoke such a deep feeling of sadness and loss in her that she had to admit it frightened her a little.

She couldn't allow herself to become distracted by her feelings, after all. She needed to focus, needed to remain calm and reasonable as long as she had to deal with the man and the strange mood that was riding him. If she let go, she would never be able to find a way to break through his mask of indifference and reach the man beyond to bring him back to his senses.

Suddenly, she frowned as the words he had said earlier came back to her mind, and she turned to look at him again. He was standing at the edge of the plateau now, gazing out into the night and obviously lost in his thoughts, but his dark eyes returned to her as soon as she addressed him in her quiet voice.

"What were you saying about the Keep, Bishop?"

He opened his mouth, obviously intending to answer her question, but whatever he wanted to say remained unspoken as the sound of a distant trumpet echoed through the night. Keridwen could feel all blood drain from her face as she recognised the sound, and her eyes widened as she saw the look on his face.

"You knew it, didn't you? You knew the Keep would be attacked!"

His voice was cold, flat. "I didn't know anything, Captain."

She stared at him, and he shrugged.

"But I'll admit that I've suspected it."

Despair reached with its sharp claws for her heart, but she fought it down. The Keep was under attack, and she, the Knight-Captain, was out somewhere in the woods, unable to defend it and at the mercy of the whims of a man that she had once called a friend. She needed to stay focused, but as the trumpet sounded again in a desperate call for aid, she could feel her control wavering.

"Bishop, please, this is no child's game you're playing. They_ need_ me. I beg you, _please_, release me!"

Her voice was pleading with him now, barely more than an urgent whisper in the dark, and she saw him tense almost imperceptibly in the purple light of the moon. For a fleeting moment, she thought that her plea had finally been able to reach the part of him that was still reasonable, and she felt a feeling close to hope as a strange emotion flickered across his face, softening his gaze. But then, his hands clenched into fists, and she tensed as she watched his slow approach, alarmed by the sudden fire that burned in his eyes.

He came closer, sauntering with those catlike moves that always reminded her of a feline predator, but it was the gleam in his eyes that startled her most and made her feel a little uneasy. It was a smouldering heat that made his dark eyes burn like coals, hinting at a simmering anger that seemed to border on insanity.

"Are you really so eager to die, Captain?"

His voice was low and threatening, and she tensed as he finally stopped in front of her, glaring at her bound form that lay at his feet.

"I am not eager to die.", Keridwen replied as calmly as she could, but her voice shook ever so slightly. "I want to make a difference."

"A _difference_?" His laughter was slow and cruel, and anger was displayed on his sharp features as he curled his lips back into a snarl.

"What difference do you think you'd make, Captain? We are miles away from that mouldering shell of a Keep. You'd need hours to find a way back, and by then, you'd only be able to _die_ along with the rest of them."

"You cannot be sure of that.", Keridwen replied, her voice unwavering as she repeated the words she had said earlier on their way to the bridges. She knew that only half a day separated her from that moment in time, but it felt like years - and now, her world would never be the same again.

Bishop snorted dismissively as he knelt beside her, his eyes livid. "Sorry, Captain, but I fear I simply cannot allow you to throw away your life so easily. I want to be freed of my debt, remember?"

"Maybe. But that doesn't give you the right to make such a decision on my behalf!", she replied sharply as she stared challengingly into his eyes, but her heart ached quietly as she did so.

His fast move startled her. She had always admired his well-trained reflexes, and admired them even now as his hand grabbed her hair and pulled her sharply towards him, bringing her face close to his chest so he could stare down hard into her eyes. His voice was nothing but a low hiss as he spoke and filled with so much hatred and contempt that it made her cringe.

"Stop lecturing me, _Captain_, and listen carefully! I'm not one of these boot-licking cronies that have started to swarm around the Keep, scraping for the least bit of your attention. I'm my own man, and if you think that I've followed you all this way because I actually _believe in your cause_ or _because we are friends_, you're more of a fool than I thought!"

His voice was cold and menacing, his posture tense and hostile, but for a brief moment, there was an emotion displayed in his eyes that didn't quite fit in with his angry words. Keridwen frowned as she watched his expression change ever so slightly. Was it longing she saw in his hazel eyes? Regret? But as soon as it appeared, it was gone and left nothing but anger in its path.

"The only reason I'm still here, Captain, is because your beloved uncle _forced me_ to do it, and the only reason you're still alive is because I _will_ repay this debt, no matter what, and I couldn't care less if that's convenient with your plans to die a hero or not."

"You are right.", she replied calmly as she studied his face, her heart aching despite the pain he induced in her head and shoulders. "We've never been friends."

Bishop released his iron grip on her hair, but his eyes had lost none of their blazing intensity as they continued to stare into hers.

"Well, now, seems like you've finally come to your senses. Good. Keep your mouth shut and do as I say, and_ only_ as I say, and we will be rid of each other soon enough."

He stood, his tense frame outlined clearly against the nightsky, and moved brusquely to sit down beside his gear, his flaming eyes never leaving her. Keridwen leaned back against the boulder, the sheer amount of feelings rushing through her finally numbing her senses, and closed her eyes, unwilling to endure his searing stare any longer. But unfortunately, closing her eyes wasn't enough to fade out the sounds of battle that started to echo through the night.

*****


	4. Chapter 3

Under a Violet Moon

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. ;)_

_I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form._

_Author's Note:__ You know it already, but I want to thank my reviewers for their comments and support, and those who added my story to their favourites and on their alert lists – I really appreciate it!_

_**Kalyane:**__ I really had to grin at your comment. If Bishop actually realised that his actions were fueled by something more than just his own twisted sense of duty, he'd probably pack his things and run as fast as he could. ;D_

_I'm glad that you like the pace of the story, so we'll just have to wait and see whether these two will ever sort things out between them. Keridwen certainly has a difficult time right now, but since they're both skilled when it comes to hiding their true feelings and emotions, it could take a while._

_And I'm really glad that you like Bishop's body language. Since I couldn't show his inner struggle outright, I feared the hints were a little too subtle… and so I'm happy to see they worked for you. :)_

_**Psychic Koala: **__First of all, I'm truly happy that you like my characterisation of Bishop. He's one of my favourite characters ever and I truly want to do him justice, trying to keep him close to his complex character without making him an evil cardboard cut out, or too soft and sociable. _

_And of course I'm happy that you like Keridwen, too. Due to her weaponmaster training, she always appears calm and controlled on the outside, but I'm glad that she didn't turn out too controlled or powerful and still seems likeable. And thanks for your suggestion - now that the first argument between Bishop and Keri is over, there's more time for thoughts and feelings, and I hope you'll like it. :) _

_*****_

**3**

It was a nightmare.

Bishop had obviously chosen a route that led through the mountains north of the Keep and so they were able to hear it all, the noises only a little subdued. The arrival of the siege towers. The calls of the trumpets, theirs and those of the Shadow army, giving signals to the troops. She could hear the artillery of magic missiles and fireballs raining down on the Keep, and the distant cries of the men.

Once she heard Bishop rise to his feet, and Keridwen opened her eyes just to see him standing at the edge of the plateau, staring intently to the South and East, and the red glow that illuminated the southern sky told Keridwen everything that she needed to know.

Crossroad Keep was burning.

The battle seemed to wage on for an eternity, each cry of pain that echoed with the wind piercing her heart like a needle. As the dark colour of the nightsky finally gave way to the steely grey of dawn, a thundering noise echoed through the air and made the ground beneath her feet shake ever so slightly, and Keridwen knew beyond doubt that the walls of the Keep had finally been breached. It was only a short while after that that the slaughter began.

Then, after what seemed to be another eternity of screams and pain, there was silence.

The sun finally rose in the East, intending to bring the light back to the world of the living, but the dark clouds that had already distorted the light of Selune hadn't disappeared. They hung menacingly upon the land like a veil of despair as they reached slowly for the northern skies, refracting the light of the sun and making the landscape appear as if it had been drowned in blood.

Bishop had remained silent during the long hours of the night, and so had she. What was there left to say, anyway? The faces of her friends and family had haunted her thoughts instead, and her fear for their safety had made her almost feel sick. Were they safe? From what she had heard, it seemed as if their forces had been as outnumbered as they had feared, and Keridwen hoped that Nasher had been far-sighted enough to give orders for an immediate retreat before the undead had begun to swarm like maggots through the breach in the wall and most likely killed everyone who had stood in their path.

Had they even known that she was gone before the trumpet had finally called the men to their battlestations? Keridwen imagined the look on Casavirs face as he must have realised what had happened to her, and felt a sharp sting of regret pierce her heart. How often had he told her that Bishop couldn't be trusted, that she should send him on his way for good?

Strangely enough, she had never felt the same. She and Bishop had understood each other in a way that she and Casavir never would, no matter how much she valued the paladin as a friend. Casavir had always wanted to protect her from all harm and therefore had sometimes acted as if she were made of glass, a delicate flower rather than a battlehardened warrior who knew how to wield a blade, and Keridwen had silently endured his kind protectiveness because she liked the paladin far too much to say a word, knowing how it would hurt him. Bishop, however, had never felt that way.

_What do you see whenever you look at her, _paladin_? She's a warrior, not a damsel in distress, and by treating her as such, you just dishonour her and all the strength she's got!_

She closed her eyes as her mind drifted to the memory of their first fight together. They had been chasing the githyanki on their heels back into Luskan territory, trying to rescue Shandra with Bishop as their guide. During the long nights and days of their pursuit, Bishop had been thoroughly unwelcoming and hostile, and his simmering anger about Duncan's interference on Keridwen's behalf had been edged clearly into the sharp features of his face.

Keridwen had understood his feelings and had therefore tried to leave him alone as much as possible, encouraging her companions discreetely to do the same, simply to avoid confrontations in their own ranks. But Bishop seemed to relish these little confrontations, probably to vent some of his own frustration, and had sought her company of his own free will, trying to provoke her with his sneering comments and biting sarcasm.

Keridwen had found his constant taunts actually much more fascinating than infuriating, a fact that had not stayed hidden from the ranger and seemed to set his temper even more on edge, not easing their relationship in the slightest. But then, on the third day of their hunt, they had walked into a trap.

The attack had started as soon as they had set foot on the deserted market square of the small village of Ember. Shouting githyanki had suddenly appeared from all directions, whirling their vicious looking blades, and they had been forced to defend themselves on the spot. Keridwen had fought her way through the first wave of attackers, her strokes fast and deadly, and had let her instincts guide Shiranui's blade while her eyes had searched for the spellcasters.

There had been two of them, standing on the other side of the market square and hiding behind the well. The air had already been wavering around them, as they had obviously had enough time to cast their protective spells, and Keridwen had simply ducked another well-aimed attack at her heart and had sliced the githyanki's guts with another fluid turn of Shiranui's edge while she had hastened past the now cringing form of her adversary, her mind solely focused on the two mages who had already begun with another incantation.

A fleeting feeling of heat had suddenly caressed her cheek, and a fire arrow had soared dangerously close past her face to pierce the first mage's flesh, stopping his incantation effectively as the githyanki sank to his knees, clutching his chest. Another arrow had been fired, taking down the second mage with the same deadly skill, and Keridwen had turned around to see Bishop standing a few steps behind her, lowering his bow as his hand had reached for another arrow from his quiver. Several githyanki had lain on the ground around him, their motionless bodies still smoldering from the burning wounds his enchanted projectiles had caused, and he had lifted his eyebrows in an almost cocky fashion as his eyes had met hers across the battlefield.

Suddenly, there had been a movement behind him, and another githyanki had jumped from the shadows between the houses, his blade aiming for a killing blow. Bishop had whirled around, raising his bow, but the githyanki had already been too close for a straight shot. Realisation had dawned on the ranger's face as he had analysed the scene, and he had thrown himself to the right to evade the githyanki's blade as Keridwen had suddenly stepped up behind him, keeping Shiranui low at her side to hide its movements from their enemy while she used Bishop's ducking body as a shield. Then, with one fluid motion, she had raised her sword to let it follow the line of the ranger's retreating back in an upward-arc, her blade now aiming at her unsuspecting opponent.

The edge had been close enough to Bishop's head to cut the tips of his hair as Shiranui had soared through the air to embed itself forcefully into the forehead of the githyanki, cleaving his head neatly in two. Blood and other, much more unsavoury bits had sprayed everywhere, but Keridwen had simply let her blade's momentum carry her further, helping her to avoid most of the red projectiles.

A quick glance around the scenery had told her that the fight had almost been won, and so she had turned to find Bishop standing only a few feet away, watching her quietly. His evading move had saved him from most of the blood as well, but his face and parts of his leather armour had been spattered with red drops nonetheless. His dark eyes had searched her face, their stare intense, and his voice had sounded calm and almost a little impressed as he spoke. "You sure know how to wield a blade."

Keridwen had returned his intense stare, her reply evenly solemn. "I do." After a long moment of careful scrutiny, she had tilted her head a little in his direction and had nodded at the dead githyanki at his feet, arrows protruding from their chests, and the weapon in his hand. "But no more than you know how to use that bow."

He had smiled at her reply, the first true smile she had ever seen from him, and then had simply made his way to the well to wash the blood from his face. She had never asked him about it, but after this incident, his demeanour towards her had changed noticeably. There had still been a sneer in his voice whenever he spoke with her, but now, it was more often accompanied by respect than contempt in his piercing hazel eyes. And then, after a while, his voice had even lost its sneer in her presence, and Keridwen had found comfort in the strange kind of comradery that seemed to have developed between them with each passing day.

She opened her eyes to find him standing at the edge of the plateau once more, one hand raised to shield his face against the first light of dawn as he stared intently to the South and East, and Keridwen wondered if she had been a fool to assume that his changed demeanour had meant something to him, and if she had not simply led herself astray to believe that he had come to think of her as a companion, maybe even a friend.

_Stop lamenting over things you cannot change!_, she reprimanded herself as another wave of sorrow and loss threatened to overwhelm her fatigued body. _Stay focused. Concentrate. You will not allow him to play this game by his rules alone._

Keridwen watched the man standing in front of her, and her sharp eyes caught a hint of his exhaustion in the light shadows under his eyes and the way his normally so tense shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly, and it suddenly occurred to her that he could not have slept, having had to keep watch all night. Her jaw clenched ever so slightly as she seized up the man before her just like any other opponent, and her mind raced as she realised that she could use his fatigue to her advantage.

She would rest. She was the victim, after all, and this whole mess of a situation was his idea. She would force him to stay alert, numbing his already fatigued senses while _she_ would recover her strength. Bishop turned and walked back to his sitting place, his expression sour, and she hastened to close her eyes as she did not want to ignite another confrontation right now.

_Let him keep watch, Keri. Let the man exhaust himself just a little further._

Because she knew that if she only had the patience to wait long enough, he would finally make a mistake. And if he did, she would be ready.

***

The woods were quiet, but Bishop did not allow himself to be fooled by the peaceful scenery around him. As if the strangely reddish light of the sun wasn't enough to put every cautious man on alert, all it had taken him was one look at the southern sky and the dark clouds of smoke that were now rising in the South and East to know that the Keep had been thoroughly dismantled, and that any man who wanted to survive these dangerous times should keep his weapons handy, should trouble finally decide to catch up with him.

_Of course it's not as if trouble hadn't already caught up with you all along…_

Bishop scowled at the mocking voice in his head and cast a furtive glance at Keridwen's sleeping form, wondering not for the first time how things could have turned out so completely messed up between them.

He had _known_ that she would be mad, after all. He had told himself over and over again while he had waited for her to return to consciousness that even if she would not throw a fit, she would most likely be not too pleased with the decision he had made for the two of them (however smart it might have been, though, considering the recent fate of her oh-so-beloved Keep...), and therefore, all that he had to do was _to remain calm_ and wait until she would finally come to her senses, realising that he had done her in fact a great favour by taking her with him.

But instead, he had allowed her to drive him mad.

Bishop cringed involuntarily as the memories returned unbidden to his mind. He, kneeling beside her, his hand grabbing forcefully for her soft hair to pull her towards him, her large eyes reflecting the violet moon and her lips so close to his own now that he could have touched them with his mouth, and his voice, hissing loudly into her ear about his debt and his true feelings for her.

And true they were, the gods may be damned! He was none of her lackeys, after all, only waiting to fulfill the wishes of the glorious Knight-Captain at the smallest wave of a hand. He had never stayed because he had _liked_ her, he had stayed because _he had been forced to_!

But if that was true, why had he felt his heart ache ever so slightly as he had noticed the sudden distant look in her eyes? Why was the memory of her soft voice enough to make him feel almost ashamed of his actions even now, when all he had said to her was the truth?

_You are right. We've never been friends._

Bishop scowled at the sleeping woman before him. It was all her fault, anyway! He should have _known_ that she wouldn't be grateful. He should have known that she would stay the same stubborn, righteous little bitch she had been since the first day he had met her, daring to lecture him about his actions und feelings and then even demanding to be cut loose so that she could join an already lost battle, and that after he had almost damaged his back to carry her sorry hide all the way into the mountains, just to keep her safe!

_But what is so special about her that you wanted to keep her safe, anyway?_

The thought made him feel a little uncomfortable, but now that it had found its way into his mind, he couldn't find the strength to ignore it. It were her eyes that had started all this trouble, Bishop decided after another long scornful look into her pale, sleeping face. This look of hers, as if she could see right into the deepest regions of his soul, knowing that he wouldn't be able to keep a secret from her gentle stare, no matter how desperately he tried; it was this look that made him behave like a madman nowadays.

Her eyes had fascinated Bishop right from the beginning. When he had joined with her motley band of adventurers, the others had looked at the surly ranger with the same barely disguised expression of disgust and superiority as everybody else, and Bishop had smiled secretly because that look meant that his oh-so-valuable companions believed exactly what he wanted them to believe about him, so that in the end, they would never see him coming, self-righteous fools that they were.

Keri had never looked at him this way, though. Her large blue eyes, adding even more to her youthful appearance than her delicate physique, had stared at him in a way that he had never experienced with a woman before. This eyes with their look of gentle curiosity seemed to tell him that she was actually very well aware of all the masks he was wearing, but that all she really was interested in was to get a glimpse of the man behind them all, and her gentle stare had been a silent invitation to open himself just a little to her, so she may come in to share his thoughts.

At first, he had resented her offer. He didn't _need_ her to keep him company, after all. But for the first time in too many years, Bishop had had the impression that there might be someone who was actually interested in him, the man, and not only in his skills as a tracker or in his body to warm a bed. So, in a single moment of weakness, he had allowed her a little closer, just to get a better measure of the woman himself, and had found himself drawn as irresistably to her as a moth to the flame.

There was something about her quiet strength and character that intrigued him. The way she would stay focused even in the cruelest slaughter of battle, her pace never wavering even when the world seemed to shatter around her - that was a silent strength he could respect, and Bishop's respect had never been earned easily.

But what had intrigued him the most was that softer, compassionate side she showed whenever the circumstances allowed it. He remembered how he had watched her in silence when she had comforted her friends after the death of the farm girl, strangely touched at the tears that had shone in her eyes as she had spoken during Shandra's funeral ceremony in one of the Keep's courtyards, and for a fleeting moment, his heart had urged him to stand beside her, to hold her in his arms and to whisper words of comfort into her ear until all the pain he saw in her eyes would finally go away…

He caught himself just as his mind wanted to delve even deeper into his memories, and his eyes widened noticeably in astonishment as he truly realised what he had been thinking. For a fleeting moment, a strangely mingled feeling that tasted uncomfortably of longing and fear threatened to overwhelm his senses, only to be washed away almost instantly by the same blazing fury that had made him grab Keridwen's hair last night.

Bishop snarled, and his hands clenched tightly into fists as he fought to control the storm that suddenly raged inside him. He glared at the woman before him, sleeping peacefully under the cover of his woolen cloak, and shook his head in disgust. She was _nothing_ to him, after all. A nuisance, a burden, a constant reminder of Duncan's unbearable interference in his life, a symbol for all the chains that bound him to the unfortunate path his life had taken, and he would sooner kill himself before he allowed himself to feel anything for a petty little wench such as her.

_And yet here you are, guarding her sleep while undead roam free across the land…_

With a hissing sound, Bishop jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing. _Shut up!_, he growled at the mocking voice in his head and crossed the distance between him and Keri in one single, furious stride. Kneeling beside her, he reached for her shoulder and shook her roughly, only once.

Keri's eyes opened as soon as he touched her. There was no drowsiness or confusion in them, as he would normally have expected from a person who had just awoken rather abruptly after a night of strenuous privations, but all he could see was vigilance and calm concentration instead. It showed that she was well experienced in sleeping outdoors and under difficult conditions, a quality he had actually found quite admirable about her. Right now, he _loathed_ her for being admirable at all.

"Time to get up, _Captain_.", he sneered, his voice rougher than he had expected. She simply stared at him, her look calm and demanding without a single sign of fear, and he had to fight down the sudden urge to raise his fist and hit her hard in the face, just to vent some of his frustration. He stood before his anger could get the better part of him and glared at her from above, his voice dripping with venom.

"The sun won't slow its rise for you, believe me, and we still have a lot of ground to cover."

*****


	5. Chapter 4

_Under a Violet Moon_

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. ;)_

_I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form._

_Author's Note:__ You know it already, but I want to thank my reviewers for their comments and support, and those who added my story to their favourites and on their alert lists – I really appreciate it!_

_But now, back to your reviews:_

_**Kalyane:**__ I'm glad that you enjoy the flashbacks. They are a wonderful tool to flesh out their backstory without giving a complete renarration of the OC, and I intend to show you more glimpses of their past to explain their current dilemma. ;)_

_And although Bishop certainly is no nice person, he still has feelings – although he does his best to ignore them. And there's really no need to worry about your English, dear – you explained things very well. *hugs*_

_**Minxie:**__ I'm glad that you're still enjoying the story. I love writing about Bishop's inner emotional struggle, which you described very accurately. ;) _

_**O'Toole:**__ That dialogue with Bishop caught my attention right away while I was still playing, and I fumed silently that the game gave me no option to say 'Yes!', so I thought I'd play with that scenario in a different way. I thought that adding a little twist would make things more interesting, and I'm happy you agree._

_**Nastrandir:**__ I'm happy to see that you're still enjoying the story. Since I love Bishop's character so much, I'm glad that you think I'm doing him justice – and I fully intend to add more flashbacks to flesh out their past._

_**Aeltari Kareidis:**__ I'm glad that you like my characterization of Bishop. It will be a bit of a challenge to keep him from getting too soft in the chapters to come, but to be honest – I like him the most when he's ill-tempered and grumpy, so I hope that will help. ;)_

_**Psychic Koala:**__ I'm truly glad that you like the description of the battle at Crossroad Keep. It's a very dramatic turning-point in Keri's life, so I'm glad that the beginning of the last chapter works for you. As for the regular updates – now that I'm back at work, updates might take a little longer, but I'll try my best. :)  
_

*********

**4**

Bishop kneeled beside his gear and searched in the depths of his backpack for the linen package with the provisions, his anger slowly cooling. He could feel Keri's eyes on his back, following his every move, and wondered not for the first time what in the Nine Hells he should do now.

He knew that, not a moment ago, he had told her that they had to get moving, but he was very well aware of the fact that he simply couldn't carry her all the way through the woods. When he had first planned to take Keri along with him, and even against her will if he had to, he had thought to make camp and rest until she had calmed down enough to agree to travel with him further to the North, away from Neverwinter territory.

But now, after the Keep had been attacked, they didn't have the luxury to wait until the Captain finally decided to change her stubborn mind. As soon as the sun set in the West, the undead would swarm across the land to fulfill their Master's wishes, and that meant they would have to make haste if they wanted to avoid unpleasant confrontations.

But he couldn't cut her loose, either. Even without a weapon, she presented a serious challenge in battle, and he couldn't allow her to simply trot back to the smouldering ruins of her Keep to die, because if she did, he would never be free of his debt.

_Or of her, for that matter…_

He was still snarling after that last foolish thought as his fingers finally closed around the food package. _First, eat!_, he decided as he took the provisions out of his backpack, his stomach aching quietly after another long and eventful night. _Then we'll see what we can do about the woman._

He turned around to find her watching him still, her silent stare a little unnerving. He lifted the package in his hand and held it in her direction, a questioning look on his face.

"You hungry?"

She simply stared at him, her eyes watchful but revealing none of her emotions, and he thought that it might be a good time to start and try to smooth things over a bit. He unwrapped the package and frowned as he took in the sight of dried meat, dark bread and cheese. Then he gave it a mental shrug. They had had worse, after all.

The meat was salty and dry, just like the bread, but for his aching stomach, it was heaven. He stood, still chewing, and approached her slowly before he sat down beside her, offering her a piece of meat while he reached for the cheese.

"I know it's not the best Sal's kitchen has to offer, but I had to improvise."

She didn't even take a look at the food he was providing. She simply continued to stare into his eyes, her gaze demanding and unyielding, and from this distance, it was even more unnerving than before, although he did his best to hide his indisposition while he ate. He felt his eyes narrowing in response to her intense stare, and fought hard to keep a tight leash on his anger as it tried to boil to the surface once more. He wanted to smooth things over, after all.

"Well, now, seems to me that the meat isn't to your liking. So how about a piece of bread and cheese, then, Captain? It tastes better than it looks, believe me."

Her eyes had a fascinating deep blue colour, with small green and golden dots circling her iris, and their depths were impressive as she simply continued to look at him, neither talking nor eating. He had never been too patient, and after a long and sleepless night, his control over his temper wasn't as solid as it should have been. But he _would_ stay calm this time.

"You need to recover your strength, woman.", he growled in irritation as she continued to ignore the food but kept staring at him, her eyes unblinking. "Now, eat."

For another long moment, he waited. Then it occurred to him what he must look like, sitting beside her and talking to her in a somewhat soothing voice, trying to convince her to eat some of the provisions like she was an orphan, and he felt his anger rise again. He would not make a fool of himself, the least for _her_!

"_Fine_."

He stood and stalked back to his gear, wrapping the provisions up in their linen and shoving them into his backpack again while he glared daggers at her silent form. "If you want to act like a spoiled little child, be my guest. Just don't expect _me_ carrying you around if you're finally too weak to walk because you've been too stubborn to eat!"

"You told me to keep my mouth shut, remember?"

Her voice sounded calm and a little amused, and he snarled, her sharp-tongued reply scraping dangerously across the surface of an already incited temper. His voice was an angry growl as he spoke. "Do you want to eat something now or not?"

Keri shook her head, obviously unconcerned by the aggression he heard in his voice. "No, I'm not hungry." Then she cast him a thoughtful look, frowning ever so slightly as she did so. "But some water would be welcome."

He snarled but reached for his waterskin, anyway. He crossed the distance between them with another angry stride and then knelt beside her to hold the skin while she drank thirstily, closing her eyes. The wind tousled her hair, and he could smell its faint scent again, bringing with it the memory of his head, buried in the soft mass of her dark curls, feeling its velvety caress on his skin while he inhaled her scent, hidden from prying eyes beneath the roots of that old oak tree…

He growled deeply in his chest, and his hands unvoluntarily tightened their grip on the waterskin. Keridwen moaned as he poured more water into her mouth than she could swallow and quickly turned her head away, coughing violently.

He caught himself just before more water spilled on the ground and his cloak, and felt a small sting of guilt pierce his heart as he watched her struggle, her cheeks now flushed. But then, she wanted to act like a bitch, after all.

He had to admit that she looked quite lovely with some colour in her face, but right now, that did nothing to ease his temper. He stood, and his lips curled back into a snarl as he glared at the woman before him, trying to control his anger. "That's _enough_!"

She glared at him, and he felt the ghost of a smile flicker across his face before he turned away to school his face into an unreadable expression again. "Look, I think I'll make a short scouting trip ahead just to make sure that we don't stumble across some of our undead friends once we're on the road again."

She still glared at him, water dripping from her chin, and her voice became a little sharper as she replied. "And how do you expect me to defend myself, should some of our friends catch up with me instead? Or have you decided to cut my bonds, after all?"

_Oh, this is just too good to be ignored!_

"Well, now, and here I'd thought that the _great_ Captain of Crossroad Keep could defend herself even with her arms and feet in a sling." A taunting smile curled his lips while he looked down at her, his eyes glittering mischievously. "But maybe I'm giving you too much credit here, anyway."

She simply stared at him, her eyes burning, and he tilted his head a little as he addressed her again, but with a mocking tone of severity in his voice. "The bonds will stay in place. But don't worry, Captain, I'll return to you soon enough. If anything is amiss, just shout, and _maybe_ I'll come to your aid."

He returned to his gear and stuffed his waterskin back into his backpack, his mood lightening a little, as his fingers brushed against the cool surface of a smooth piece of wood that lay amidst his other belongings. He closed his fingers around it, frowning at the unfamiliar touch, and then stared in astonishment as he finally realised what he held in his hand.

How could he have forgotten that he'd carried it all the way from the Keep on his back?

"This will not save me, you know."

Keridwen's gentle voice startled him, and he let go of the object in an instant, almost feeling as if she had caught him committing a sacrilege, and then turned his head sharply to glare at her.

"What?"

Her calm eyes revealed nothing about her feelings, but her voice sounded quiet and sad as she spoke. "You said you wanted to safe my life, so you'd be freed of your debt. But this will not save me." He huffed and started to fasten the laces of his backpack again, preparing to leave. "I'm sorry, Captain, but after what happened to your Keep last night, you look safe enough to me right now."

She shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. "This means nothing, Bishop. _**He**_ will hunt me, no matter what. **_He_ **cannot allow me to survive." He laughed, but it sounded hollow and cruel even in his own ears. "Don't you think you're giving yourself too much credit again, Captain? Now with the Keep gone, Garius will simply hurry back to the Mere to await his Master's arrival. He won't waste his time searching for _you_."

She watched him packing, her expression unchanging. "Maybe you're right about Garius.", she replied after a while. "He never considered me much of a threat." There was another pause in which she studied him before she added quietly: "But I wasn't talking about him."

There was something in her voice that made him put aside his backpack and return his attention to her instead, but as soon as their eyes met across the rocky plateau, he almost wished he hadn't. Her eyes stared at him with this look of desperate urgency that seemed to pierce him right through the heart every time he saw it, making him want to do so many unthinkable things to her, and he shivered as he continued to stare into those fathomless pools of blue fire, spellbound by her quiet voice.

"Do you remember the night we returned with Jerro from his Haven? Ammon said that he and I had no other choice than to fight the King of Shadows, for _**he**_ knew that we were carrying the Rituals of Purification. As long as we live, _**he**_ will be vulnerable. For the guardian of an ancient empire, such a thought is simply unbearable. _**He**_ will come for me, and now I will have only my part of the ritual to protect me, with no Sword of Gith in my hand and no army to stand beside me."

These last words were spoken more as a simple matter of fact than an accusation, and yet Bishop felt another small sting of guilt needle his heart. He tore his eyes away from her pale face and focused on the laces again instead, unwilling to admit that there might be a grain of truth in what she had just said.

"The King of Shadows only cares about Illefarn territory, right?" He shrugged, intentionally avoiding her eyes while he fastened the last lace, keeping his voice carefully light. "You'll simply have to go to the South, then, out of his reach."

Keri's eyes narrowed noticeably, and her voice sounded almost angry as she replied. "I see you've already figured it all out for me, then. I'll be a fugitive for the rest of my life, always on the run, always hiding and watching the shadows and wondering if this night will be my last, because it could be the one where the Reavers finally caught up with me."

Her sarcasm was as unexpected as it was to the point, and he stood to pick up his backpack, trying to cover the hurt and appreciation he felt at her caustic reply. As he made his way across the plateau and into the woods, he fought with himself and then decided to half-turn and stare hard into her face, his voice calm and determined.

"But you'd be alive!"

He had already reached the crippled pines and was just about to disappear into the woods as he heard her quiet voice in the wind, sad but unwavering.

"That may be good enough for you, Bishop. But I fear it will never be good enough for me."

***

Keridwen watched the man disappear quietly into the woods and allowed herself finally to inhale long and deeply, trying to calm the swift beat of her heart. For a fleeting moment, when she had seen him tense in the eerie reddish shadows under the trees, she had feared that her last reply had been too much, and that he would turn around, or maybe even come back.

But her fear had been unfounded. Bishop had paused in his strides for the length of a heartbeat, giving away that he actually had heard what she had said, but had then simply kept walking, melting with the shadows as he disappeared under the trees.

Keridwen closed her eyes, listening intently, but the only sounds surrounding her were the wind in the trees and the sporadic singing of a bird. She frowned, somewhat disappointed that she couldn't hear the sound of his distant footsteps but had to admit that this wasn't exactly unexpected. She had never been able to hear him move through the undergrowth, after all.

Keridwen calmed her rapidly beating heart and kept her eyes deliberately closed, just in case he had decided to watch her from the shadows for a while to see what she would do when he was gone. In her mind, she imagined the wood-rimmed mountain lake again, and let her eyes follow the wind as he played with the red and golden leaves of the trees, inviting them to take part in another intricate dance when they finally decided to fall from their branches.

For almost fourhundred heartbeats, she let the peaceful image of the autumn lake ease her troubled mind before her focus returned to the here and now once more. Her eyes opened to search the place where Bishop had put down his gear last night, and she felt her heartbeat quicken in almost painful anticipation.

There, hidden beneath a roughly carved piece of wood, lay his skinning knife.

She had known that he would eventually make a mistake, but it was a clear sign of the degree of his exhaustion that he hadn't even realised the knife was not in its sheath across his chest as he had finally packed his belongings. It had demanded every ounce of self-control Keridwen had to offer to act calm and unconcerned while her heart had hammered even faster every time his eyes seemed to linger on the piece of wood he had been carving during the night, and so she had done the only thing she could think of to distract him - she had talked.

A part of her felt guilty for the things she had done and said to him today, seeing how he struggled to remain calm even when she goaded him on purpose, but she fought it down. She didn't have the luxury to think of him as a friend anymore. He was an adversary now (she simply couldn't bring herself to think of Bishop as an enemy just yet), and finally, her opponent had made the single mistake that she could use to her advantage.

Twisting and turning sharply, she finally managed to kick his cloak away, shivering almost instantly as the cool morning air brushed freely over her now exposed body. For one short moment, she simply sat upright and scanned her surroundings, silently cursing the man's cleverness. Lizardling cord made for strong binding, and she could feel the knots around her wrist and ankle already tightening, even after the small struggles she had exercised to free herself from the cloak.

She wormed across the ground towards the knife, ignoring the increasing pain as the cords cut even deeper into her flesh, and then sat upright once more, her fingers searching blindly for the hilt of the knife. Relief washed through her as her fingers finally closed around the cool leatherwrapped iron, but then she frowned, her eyes narrowing in concentration.

Her moves across the rocky ground had bound her arms and wrists even tighter on her back than before, and now, she simply hadn't enough room to maneuvre her hands to cut the bonds on her own. She needed to widen the cords somehow, and she would have to do it quickly. She had no illusions about Bishop's reaction should he finally return and find her here, trying to free herself, and she knew that neither of them would give in without a fight.

Keridwen closed her eyes in an attempt to focus once more, and her mind raced while she pondered on her options. Then, without hesitation, she let the edge of the knife glide slowly across her forearm, cutting the flesh. She tried to keep the wound shallow, which was difficult because she actually couldn't see what she was doing, and felt relieved as a piercing pain shot through her arm, indicating that she had been successful. Hot blood poured from the wound and flowed down her arm, and Keridwen almost smiled as she felt it dripping across her wrists.

She tried to continue to breath calm and deeply, waiting, before she carefully started to stretch her wrists. The blood had made the cords slippery, and her heart beat fast in anxiety and anticipation as suddenly, due to her constant probing, her bonds gave an inch.

Keridwen waited for another long, painful moment before she resumed her stretching again, and again. Slowly, the bonds widened enough for her to get a better grip on the knife. She frowned as she realised that her wrists were not the only thing her blood had made slippery, and let go of the knife long enough to pass her hands over the ground in an attempt to wipe the blood from her fingers. Then she positioned its sharp edge right underneath her bonds… and let her fingers move the knife swiftly up and down along the cords.

Keridwen felt her muscles ache quietly under the unusual strain, but concentrated on the movement of her hand instead, letting her fingers dance with the knife just as the wind had danced with the leaves in her meditation. After what seemed to be an eternity of movement and increasing pain, the cords finally gave way with a soft, ripping sound, and Keridwen felt the knife pierce her flesh once more as it came free in a sudden move, but she actually didn't care too much, for excitement was welling up inside her, making a simple feeling such as pain almost negligible.

She pulled her arms to her front, suppressing a wince as the blood started to flow back into her arms, and pulled her knees to her chest, cutting the cords around her ankles with one swift motion. Her legs started to prickle uncomfortably as the blood rushed back into them as well, but she ignored it as best as she could while she massaged the muscles in her thighs and shanks before her eyes fell upon her bloody sleeve.

_Stay focused, Keri_, she reminded herself as she stood to walk somewhat awkwardly across the plateau to reach for the cloak. _Don't let your excitement overwhelm your common sense_. She cast another scrutinizing stare at her surroundings before she kneeled to turn up her sleeve. The wound was shallow, just as she had intended, and not bleeding very strongly, but she had cut her forearm almost in its entire length.

Keridwen reached for the knife and cut a broad strip from the hem of the cloak, using the woolen fabric as a makeshift bandage. She remembered how pleased Bishop had been as he had acquired the cloak from a travelling merchant in Highcliff, and grinned as she imagined his reaction when he saw how she'd ruined the fine wool.

The thought of him was enough to dampen her spirits because along with his face, her memories about the last night returned as well. Keridwen felt her heart grow heavy again in an instant, and she fought for some emotional balance before she finally stood to sheath the knife under her belt and threw the cloak around her shoulder.

She had dawdled long enough. Only the gods knew how much longer the man would stay away, and she would need as much of a head start as she could muster, should he actually decide to hunt her down. She walked swiftly to the edge of the plateau, mimicking his earlier stance as she shielded her eyes against the rising sun while her gaze wandered across the scenery, trying to orientate.

She felt an icy claw grip her heart when she saw the thick cloud of smoke rising in the South and East, but tried to estimate the distance without thinking too much about the reason why there was so much smoke rising up into the sky. At least, finding a way back to the Keep would be easy, even for someone with her modest pathfinding skills. Suddenly, she felt her instincts nudge her sharply, telling her that she was being watched, and Keridwen turned slowly, her hand already reaching cooly for the knife in her belt.

He stood under the trees at the edge of the small plateau, watching her quietly, and Keridwen wondered for a brief moment how she could have been foolish enough to asume that Bishop would carry her all this way into the mountains just to leave her alone and unguarded for every wild animal or scouting party to find.

The wolf made no movement as he answered her silent stare, his amber eyes shining brightly, but she saw his muscles tense ever so slightly as her fingers closed around the weapon sheathed under her belt, and a low growl emanated from his chest.

But the growl sounded actually more questioningly than aggressive in Keridwen's ears, and she relaxed a little. She had always been fond of Bishop's animal companion, and the thought of hurting Karnwyr made her heart ache painfully, but she had no choice.

"I know that he told you to stay behind and keep an eye on me.", she finally addressed the wolf calmly in her quiet voice. Karnwyr simply continued to stare at her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine as she looked into these bright, disturbingly intelligent animal eyes.

"I know you are loyal to him, and I hope you know how much I appreciated your company during the long weeks of our travel. But I _will_ leave this place, Karnwyr, no matter what your master ordered you to do, and if you are trying to stop me, I will defend myself."

She said her words calm and slowly, certain that the wolf would _know_ somehow what she had just said. They had travelled together long enough for Keridwen to understand that Karnwyr was far more than an ordinary canine, but just like his master, this fact had never disturbed her before. Maybe now was the time to find out if she had misjudged the wolf as thoroughly as she obviously had the man.

Karnwyr watched her, his eyes unblinking, and Keridwen readied herself, should the wolf suddenly leap into an attack. He was a fast and deadly hunter, as were all of his kin, but with a knife in her hand she knew that the wolf would lie dead at her feet before he would even get a chance to jump at her throat.

For another long moment, they stared at each other. Then Karnwyr yawned and lay down under the trees, his head now resting comfortable on his paws, his amber eyes blinking slowly. Keridwen sighed as she interpreted his behaviour as a sign of truce, and walked slowly towards the path that led downhill, her eyes never leaving the wolf. But Karnwyr simply looked at her from his resting place under the trees, his head still lying on his paws, and with an expression on his face that almost seemed to tell her:

_Well, if you must._

She released her grip around the hilt of the knife and turned to leave. As she reached the edge of the plateau, she looked back one the last time to see him still lying under the trees, his eyes two small slits of glowing amber, and nodded curtly in his direction, a small smile flickering across her face. Then she returned her attention to the narrow path that wound its way down into the woods, lined by crippled pines.

_That may be good enough for you, Bishop. But I fear it will never be good enough for me._

Keridwen sighed as the words she had spoken earlier this day came back to her mind. Then she fastened the cloak around her shoulders and moved on, making her way down the hill and towards death.

*****


	6. Chapter 5

Under a Violet Moon

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form.  
_

_Author's Note:__ A short word of caution - my chapters will tend to get a little more lengthy from now on. On one side, that's good, for there'll be more for you to read... but on the other side, it will make updates a little less regularly, but I'm doing my best to keep the chapters coming._

_So many thanks again for all the feedback and encouragement, and enjoy the newest installment! :)_

_**K****alyane:** You're right - not even Keri has any illusions that she could get away from Bishop if he decides to hunt her down. But she's no damsel in distress, so we'll see what happens, should they meet again under these new (and more equal) circumstances. :)_

_**Aeltari Kareidis:** *laughs* Well, I think every fangirl would prefer to stay with him in the woods. But since Keri is not one of us but the Knight Captain of Crossroad Keep, she doesn't see some things like we do. ;P_

_**Minxie:** I know what you mean. The fangirl in me wants them to stay together, but the storyteller says otherwise. So let's see what happens when Bishop finds out that she's gone... and whether you're right. :)_

_**Psychic Koala:** I'm really glad that you like Keridwen. Since she's the Knight Captain close to the end of the campaign, she's already skilled and experienced, so I'm glad that she's still likeable and not just one kickass superchick noone can take serious.  
_

_*****_

**5**

Although the sun had risen in the East hours ago, the world was now a place of twilight and bloodred shadows that made the scenery appear almost unreal, like a dreamscape. The air was filled with dark clouds of smoke and ash that pierced the lungs and burned sharply in the eyes, and the sickening smell of burned flesh hung thickly upon the devastated land as Keridwen slowly approached the dark, gaping hole in the wall that had once been the main gate of the Keep.

Her eyes scanned the surroundings for any sign of the enemy while her heart ached quietly as she saw the scars that had already been inflicted upon the land through the recent battle. Soil had been turned up by countless boots, leaving the only recently fertilized fields and meadows barren and wasted once more. The promising farms that had surrounded the Keep lay now in ruin, their wooden beams still smouldering and smoking, and Keridwen had been forced to cut another piece from the hem of the cloak to cover her mouth and nose, simply to ease her breathing.

There was noone to be seen, neither living nor undead, but she didn't allow that to lure her into a false feeling of security. The smell of burned flesh was strong, but she couldn't help getting suspicious as she noticed the surprisingly small amount of skeletal corpses strewn about the battlefield at the foot of the ruined siege towers, and her warrior instincts made the hairs on her neck stand up in an urgent attempt to make her go away, back under the sheltering shadows of the woods.

It was dangerous to approach the Keep so openly, even in this eerie, dim light of day. And yet she was walking towards the Keep nonetheless, one calm step after another, her hand determinedly closed around the hilt of Bishop's knife while her eyes studied the walls, watching for every move. There was something waiting in the ruins, an otherwordly presence that seemed to emanate from the Keep and penetrated even the surrounding lands with its dark essence, and Keridwen felt herself drawn to it as irresistably as a moth to the flame.

She _knew_ this presence. The first sight of the still burning ruins of Crossroad Keep had brought back the memory of a disturbing dream, a dream that had taken place in the crumbling ruins of an ancient Illefarn castle, and Keridwen had been cowering under the trees at the edge of the woods, the icy claw of despair gripping for her heart again, as she had suddenly remembered her panicked flight through the deserted courtyard, the pain of the shard piercing her flesh, the cold, draining touch of the shadow hunting her, and finally the appearance of the man who had saved her from her persecutor.

Had it truly been Bishop? A part of her simply refused to believe that it was him she had seen in her dream. She had felt so safe in the man's arms, so protected in his caressing embrace that the memory alone was enough to make her long for his touch again that she simply couldn't understand how it could have been Bishop's image that had awoken such feelings in her.

Even without his most recent actions, Keridwen had always known that the man cared chiefly for his own well-being, unwilling to waste his various talents by aiding those who were too weak to defend themselves and therefore deserved to die, as he had phrased it repeatedly in his heated conversations with Casavir. It confused her that her subconcious would turn to _him_ of all people when she needed help and protection, not to mention the irritating way her heart beat imperceptibly faster when she thought about the feeling of his breath on her neck or his deep voice, whispering roughly into her ear.

Keridwen stopped for a brief moment between the ruins of the Somerlund farm, using the charred buildings for cover as she struggled to regain her focus. Her emotions were in an uproar since the moment she had seen the destroyed Keep, but she needed to remain calm. So she had kneeled under the trees, going through her autumn lake mantra in an attempt to regain some balance and stop her hands from shaking, but her control was wavering.

Fear was preying upon her concentration, the constant fear for the safety of Daeghun and her friends shaking her to the core, and it was hard to stay focused and calm when all she really wanted to do was run headlong through the ruins and scream herself hoarse, looking for them.

_Fear is the mindkiller._

She remembered the day as one of her mentors had taught her this lesson so many years ago, but until today, Keridwen had never realised how true and dangerous the meaning behind this advice had been. She could feel her fear, caged inside her like a beast, struggling violently to break free in an attempt to take control over her actions, and she closed her eyes briefly as the experience of long years of training helped her to fight for her emotional balance.

_Fear is the mindkiller_, Keridwen intoned silently, her breathing calm and even. _I accept that fear is a part of me. I accept its presence within my soul, but I **will** face my fear and let it pass through me. And by doing so, fear will finally leave me, and only **I** remain._

And so she faced her fear. She imagined entering the Keep, only to find everyone she ever cared about lying dead at her feet, their bodies broken, with lifeless eyes that stared accusingly at her, and Keridwen allowed herself one terrifying moment of sorrow and grief before she finally let go of all thoughts... and as she opened her eyes again, the fear was dormant once more, and her mind sharp and focused.

Her eyes wandered to the dark, gaping hole in the wall, and she felt a cold shiver run down her spine as she took in the sight of the once proud Keep, now cowering on the top of the hill like a dying animal, and she felt her resolve strengthen once more. She had come all this way to find answers to her questions. Now was the time to show some courage and face the truth!

Her soft footsteps made almost no sound as she stepped out of her hiding-place and crossed the rubble-strewn drillground at the feet of the Keep, her eyes never leaving the walls as she searched for any signs of an ambush, but everything remained quiet. _It feels like passing through a great graveyard_, Keridwen thought with a shudder as she stepped into the bloodred shadows that circled the Keep, its stony walls now towering high above her, and she felt a sharp sting of sorrow pierce her heart as she suddenly realised that from now on, the Keep would most likely never be anything else than a huge graveyard anymore.

Now that she was standing so close to the gate, she could see what the spellcraft of their attackers had done to the fortifications. Long clefts radiated from the gaping hole in the wall and ran through the grey sandstones, indicating at the impact of the spell that had finally blasted the gate. The stones around the Keep's entrance had melted into a dark, glassy substance that had to be the result of a heat that Keridwen couldn't even begin to imagine, and she shuddered again as her fingers stroked carefully across the mutilated stone, her eyes widening in disbelief.

The wall vibrated ever so slightly under the soft touch of her fingertips, and she could feel the otherworldly presence once more, like a cold breath on her neck. She knew what it was that penetrated the broken walls, but a part of her still refused to believe it. How could **he** have reached the Keep? **He** had still been trapped on the Plane of Shadows only a few days ago, unable to pass through the thin veils of mist that still separated him from the Material Plane, and Keridwen couldn't imagine that Garius had been able to finish his Ritual of Entrance so quickly. Had they underestimated **him** in the end, simply misjudging his power to interfere on this plane even when he was barely more than a shadow of his former self?

The presence was faint, though, and it reminded Keridwen of the strange sensation she had felt in the Mere of Dead Men as they had been searching for Elanee's druid friends.

_**His** sphere of influence must be spreading!_

That was not a comforting thought, for it meant that the lifedraining effect of his touch was most likely spreading as well. She would have to make haste if she didn't want to end as corrupted in both body and mind as the members of Elanee's former circle, unable to separate friend from foe anymore. Keridwen took her hand away from the stones and cast a last watchful glance at her surroundings, her heart beating faster in fearful anticipation as her eyes tried to penetrate the shadows that covered the Keep's outer courtyard, and she took a deep breath to steel herself, her throat suddenly dry.

_Stay calm, Keri. You can handle this. You will face your fear and let it pass through you._

For the last time, she turned around to let her gaze wander across the deserted fields and quiet woods. Then, with Bishop's knife firmly in hand, she finally stepped into the shadows and entered the Keep.

*

Bishop put his backpack down on the sandy ground next to the brook and kneeled to refill his water skin. The woods were still quiet, a little too quiet for the advanced hour of day, but he understood. The dark clouds that rose from the Mere and covered the world in this depressing bloodred twilight weighed down on the mind, and most animals had gone into hiding, sensing the change that was coming. Even _he_ felt it, a light breeze in the air that was almost too subtle to notice, like a cold breath on his neck that carried with it the scent of death and destruction, and he had to admit that he didn't like it at all.

He drank a few handfuls of water and splashed his face, welcoming the biting cold of the liquid on his cheeks while he savoured its refreshing quality. The long night finally started to catch up with him, but he would handle it. The gods knew there had been other long nights before, and he needed to remain watchful, now maybe more than ever.

He had found no traces of undead scouting parties in these parts of the woods, though. That was a good sign, actually, for it meant that Garius had kept his undead brutes on a tight leash, focussing his efforts on the Keep and its surrounding lands instead, but with the Keep gone, Bishop had no illusions that the woods would stay quiet for too long. It was time to return to the camp and make their way farther into the North, away from the shadows and these cursed lands.

He sealed his water skin and reached for his backpack, intending to stow the skin away and move on, as his eyes fell once more upon the precious piece of craftmanship he had carried from the Keep along with his other possessions. His hands closed almost instinctively around the varnished wood, and his heart beat imperceptibly faster as he removed it carefully from his backpack.

There, in its black wooden scabbard, lay Shiranui, the sheathed katana vibrating ever so slightly under his light touch, and he frowned, not sure what to think of the way his heart ached quietly as he let his fingers wander slowly across the polished surface of the scabbard, his fingertips prickling comfortably through the blade's magic.

It had been risky to sneak back into the Keep to steal the sword from her room, especially with an unconscious Keridwen already cradled in his arms, but he had made his way to her suite nonetheless, his senses alert and taut like a bow-string. Luckily, the dark hallways of the Keep had been deserted, and so it had actually been quite ironic that he had almost been caught on her doorstep in the end, and by no other man than the paladin himself.

Bishop had stayed hidden in the shadows and had watched the man standing in front of Keridwen's suite, obviously struggling with himself whether he should knock on her door despite the late hour, and Bishop had felt his lips curl back silently into a snarl. The other man's face had been partially in shadow, but his feelings of doubt, fear and even longing had been edged so clearly in the angular lines of his face that even the dim light of the torches had been enough to see it all.

_Hypocritical fool_, Bishop had thought with disgust as the paladin had finally taken his hand from her door and had slowly walked away into the shadows, his retreating steps so heavy as if he carried the weight of the whole world on his broad shoulders, and not just the burden of unrequited love. Because there was _no way_ in any heaven or hell that a woman like Keri would ever give her heart to a man like the paladin, melancholy, high-handed fool that he was!

It had been risky to return to her room, though, and Bishop had had no doubts that there would be some kind of retribution should he be caught, trying to abduct the Knight-Captain from her own Keep on the eve of battle. His frown deepened as he asked himself not for the first time why he had returned for the sword, then, despite the risk.

It was precious to her, that was why. She had told him once during a nightwatch they had spent at their campfire that for her, this blade was much more than just a piece of well crafted metal. It was her weapon of choice, a part of her soul, and he hated to admit to himself that he simply couldn't bring himself to leave it behind as he finally took off with her in his arms, knowing how much it would hurt her to be parted with it.

Was that why he had loathed the paladin even more with each passing day? Because if the man truly cared so much about Keri, how could he simply _not_ realise how much it pained her to be forced to wield the Sword of Gith? It had been obvious to him from the moment Keridwen had held the silver sword in her hands for the first time, right after the gith had helped her to reforge the blade in the crumbling ruins of her home village.

For a long moment, Keri had simply looked at the sword in her hands as it pulsated in an almost painfully bright light, and a strange emotion of resignation and loss had flickered across her face before she had schooled her expression once more into the stoic mask of calm determination she wore more and more often these days.

She had wielded the silver sword in all the battles that had followed, leaving her katana behind without a single word of complaint or regret, and so it had actually surprised him to watch her struggling with her newly forged weapon. The sword felt alien to her, that much was obvious to him, and he could only imagine how it must feel for Keri to replace her beloved katana with another weapon.

Not that _he_ would ever hang his heart on something as fragile as a sword, though. But for Keri, things were a little different, and yet she had accepted her new role without hesitation. As much as he had grudgingly admired her for her silent courage, he had loathed the others for their intentional blindness. Oh, they had all been so cheerful after the sword had been remade, the paladin almost wetting himself in his excitement. As long as there was _someone_ to wield the blade and the Rituals of Purification, there was still hope, after all, and everyone was just so happy to load their burdens on Keri's shoulders, no matter what it would cost her in the end as long as they didn't have to carry them alone.

Was that why he had chosen to take her along with him, even against her will? Because she deserved better than to die just for the sake of those who didn't have the courage to stand up for themselves, glad that there was someone else who had to make all the sacrifices for a cause that had been long lost, anyway?

Bishop had to admit that he had no answers to these questions. He knew what he had told her last night about his debt, making it sound like that was all that was to his actions, but right now, he wasn't so sure if that was the whole truth anymore.

There was something about her that touched him in a way that seemed to be more than just the way a man would feel attracted to a woman, and he didn't know what to make of it. He didn't like to be involved, after all, didn't like feeling attached. But as much as he hated to admit it, he could no longer deny that he felt more for Keri than he had felt for anyone else in the past, not after he had left his own home village so many years ago to make his luck.

But did it even matter? He had made an _oath_ in the burning ruins of Redfallow's Watch that from now on, he would fight all the chains that would bind him, that he would never rely on anything else anymore than his own wit and his own desires. He wasn't willing to break this oath for a _woman_, and Duncan's niece on top of that, no matter how special she might be.

_Not that you could ever make it up to her, anyway, now that you've made such a fine habit of playing the brute in her presence and all…_

Bishop felt his grip around the sword tightening ever so slightly as his last thought hit a surprisingly soft spot. Angrily, he shoved Shiranui back into his backpack and fastened the laces, seething silently.

He would return to the camp and finally give her the damn sword, and then cut her bonds. After that, he would tell her what he had discovered during his scouting trip, and would suggest to make their way farther into the North. Then she could take her precious little blade and make her way back into Neverwinter territory, if she had to. But now with the Keep gone, he was almost certain that Keri would finally understand that there was nothing left that bound her to the cursed city, and would agree to come with him, if only to put some space between herself and the Reavers.

He could take her to one of the settlements that lined the coast, Bishop mused while he searched his way through the undergrowth with care, or maybe even find a way north through Luskan territory for her, if she stopped acting the bitch and caught him in the right mood. Maybe he would even take her farther to the South, if she asked nicely enough. And then, when his debt had finally been paid in full, he and Keri could part ways again, and he would be free and clear once more. Strangely enough, the prospect of breaking the chains that bound him to the Farlong family didn't thrill him as much as he would have expected.

He sensed that something was amiss the second he reached the trees that encircled their camp. For a long moment, he simply stood in the bloodred shadows, listening intently while his hands reached slowly for the hilts of his blades. Then, as he sneaked forward, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief.

All need for secrecy suddenly forgotten, Bishop sprinted onto the rocky plateau, and his blood ran alternately hot and cold in his veins as he stared at the now empty space where, only a short while ago, he had left Keridwen behind, her hands and feet bound tightly with lizardling cords. She was nowhere to be seen, with her bonds lying only a few feet away on the ground, and after another angry stride he kneeled beside them, his hands now shaking with barely suppressed fury. The bonds lay partially in a pool of a dark, half-dried liquid, and he dipped one finger into it, sniffing cautiously. Then he scowled.

Blood, just as he had expected.

_But how in the…_

A cold shiver suddenly ran down his spine as his gaze fell on a roughly carved piece of wood, and he reached automatically for the sheath across his chest, his hand clenching angrily into a fist as his fingers touched only his leather-clad chest, and not the hilt of his knife.

He growled, his growing frustration only fueling his anger. _Never_ in his life had he made such a crucial mistake before, and it chafed him that it had happened now of all times, and then with _her_ of all people. A quick glance at the cords told him everything he needed to know about how she had finally cut her bonds, and admiration mingled unwanted with his anger as he twisted the dark leather cords in his fingers.

She _was_ a clever little bitch!

After worming across the ground to the place where he had left his knife, the bonds had been cutting too deep into her flesh to use the weapon effectively, and so Keri had simply cut her arm to make the cords slippery enough for her to use her hands more freely. Simple, effective, and willing to do what needs to be done. If his hands hadn't shook so strongly with barely suppressed rage, he would have applauded her for her focused determination.

Not that he needed to search for her trail to know where she had gone, though.

His sharp ears suddenly caught the sound of claws scraping across rocky ground, and he turned his head, his dark eyes blazing. Karnwyr approached him slowly, apparently unconcerned with his master's foul mood but still clever enough to stay just out of Bishop's reach.

"_You_!", the ranger growled as his eyes narrowed dangerously to slits. "I assume you simply let her walk away into the woods, right?" The wolf yapped sharply before he shook his head vehemently, and Bishop snarled as the meaning of Karnwyr's gesture became only all too clear.

_She had a knife._

To the _hells_ with her! What was she thinking, running back to the Keep and right into the arms of the Shadow army with no gear and only his old skinning knife for a weapon? It would have been easier for her to ask him to slit her throat than to live through the pain Garius and his Reaver friends would inflict upon her if they ever got a chance to lay their skeletal hands on her!

The thought made him tighten his grip painfully on the bloody cords in his hands before he threw them away with a loud shout of frustration, his thoughts in an uproar. What should he do? Returning to the Keep would be something close to suicide, with an army of the enemy gathering in the smouldering ruins, but the image of Keridwen's lifeless body haunted his thoughts, and he shouted again, fearing that he would explode if he found no way to vent some of his frustration.

For another moment, he hesitated. Then he stood, whistling sharply, and Karnwyr pricked up his ears and fell in with Bishop's angry strides as the ranger made his way swiftly across the plateau and into the woods once more, his eyes already searching for Keridwen's trail while he ground his teeth, a sudden rush of adrenaline quickening the beat of his heart. He would return to the Keep, then, and save her sorry hide _again_. Her blood on the ground hadn't dried yet, so she couldn't have much more than an hour on him.

And when they had finally escaped the undead hordes of the King of Shadows and had found a place somewhere safe, he would beat her as long and as hard as it would take him to knock some sense into her, and may the gods be merciful if she should _still_ refuse to be thankful right then!

*

There was no army gathering in the shadows of the outer courtyard. Just clouds of smoke, smouldering ruins, broken walls… and the dead.

Most of them were Greycloaks, their service coats now soaked with blood, their hands still closed around the hilts of their newly forged weapons, eyes wide with pain and despair. Keridwen made her way slowly across the deserted yard, her eyes scanning her surroundings while she forced herself to look into every burned house and every bloody face, looking for any signs of life. She found none.

Whenever she saw a familiar face among the broken bodies, the Knight-Captain felt a sharp, icy pain pierce her heart, but she fought to keep a tight leash on her emotions while she kneeled next to every fallen man or woman, paying them her respect. And yet her fingers seemed to tremble more and more violently with each step she took, trying her best to calm the rising feeling of horror within her chest with the somewhat consoling truth that, although many of the dead faces were familiar, she had found none of her beloved ones among them. Yet.

The Keep had been utterly destroyed, though. All the buildings that they had so carefully helped to rebuild over these past months were now burned down to the ground, the smoking rafters that reached into the bloodred sky reminding Keridwen strongly of misshapen black claws, and she shuddered. Parts of the fortification had come tumbling down, leaving large piles of rubble and stones barricading parts of the courtyard and forcing her to climb carefully across these obstacles as she made her way determinately to the main building of the Keep.

A part of her was glad to see that the number of corpses strewn about the courtyard, although high indeed, was still low enough to make her wonder if parts of her forces had been able to escape. The thought warmed her troubled heart, but she tried to fight that feeling as well. Although the Keep was even more quiet than the surrounding lands, she needed to remain watchful and her mind focused on the tasks ahead. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted, not even by a feeling like hope.

Countless boots had turned up the muddy ground between the smouldering ruins, the footprints easy to see, but Keridwen knew that it would take a tracker with Bishop's exceptional skill to read the numerous traces properly, and for a moment, she wished that he could have been by her side now, to tell her what had happened and if someone had been able to escape, and in which direction they had retreated.

_Stop thinking that_, she reprimanded herself as a surprisingly strong feeling of loss and loneliness made her heart ache quietly once more. _He's no longer a part of your life, so forget him._

Because that was what he wanted, wasn't it? He had made it clear enough last night that he had only stayed all this time and then had finally abducted her from the Keep to pay his debt to Duncan, so that he could take his leave in the end. Now that she had cut her bonds and had left for the Keep on her own free will, she doubted that she would ever see him again. It pained her to admit how much that thought hurt.

_You considered him a friend, Keri. It's alright to feel hurt at his betrayal. _But somehow, that thought did nothing to ease her troubled mind.

Keridwen had to climb across another large pile of dangerously sliding stones before she finally reached the inner courtyard, her hands and knees now grazed from countless numbers of sharp splinters, and then could do nothing at first but stand in the shadowy ruins in painful silence, staring at what was left of the main building of the Keep. The entire East Wing had collapsed, probably under the artillery of fireballs and magic missiles, burying great parts of the entrance hall and the library under the stones… along with her suite.

_Shiranui._

It felt as if a large fist had hit her in the guts. After all the things that had happened to her in the last few hours, she had only been able to worry about Bishop and the well-being of her father and friends, her thoughts too occupied with the problems at hand to think about anything else. But standing here, only a few steps away from the ruins of her Keep, she suddenly realised the enormity of what had been lost, and for a fleeting moment, she feared that she would finally loose control as an agonizing wave of despair threatened to overwhelm her senses.

_Fear is the mindkiller_, Keridwen thought desperately as she fought hard to focus. _I will face my fear. I **will** face my fear and let it pass through me._

Suddenly, a flash of colour caught her eye, and the Knight-Captain kneeled slowly to pick up a small object from the ground. It was a wooden doll, the small face carved masterfully into the beech and then dressed in carefully decorated robes of shimmering yellow and green, and Keridwen's heart gave a terrible squeeze, her fingers growing numb all of a sudden as she saw the small hand that reached out from under the rubble and large stones that she had climbed so recently.

_Oh gods…_

She recognised the doll. It had belonged to Dori, the charming little orphan girl that had accompanied her from the city to the Keep, along with Wolf and her other young companions. Khelgar had made the doll for her, with Shandra stitching the clothes after she had caught the dwarf carving at the campfire and had insisted that he simply couldn't hand over a naked wooden woman to a little girl, for the dwarf had actually made a very accurate model of the female body.

Keridwen felt tears sting in her eyes as her trembling fingers caressed the smooth wooden cheeks. Although Khelgar had tried his best to scare her off, Dori had been strangely fascinated by the dwarf and had started to follow him almost everywhere whenever the Captain and her companions had stayed at the Keep.

At first, Khelgar had tried to play down her affection, mostly because of the gentle tease of some of his friends, but after a while, he had grown quite fond of the little girl, although he had still tried to play down his feelings, making it appear as if the girl was the greatest nuisance in the world. But Keridwen had noticed the way Khelgar's eyes had recently started to search the vicinity of the outer courtyard as soon as they had come back through the gates, looking for a sign of his little admirer.

And there she had been, mostly sitting on one of the roofs with some of her friends, waving exitedly, and Khelgar had huffed in played exasperation while Neeshka had happily resumed her teasing, but his eyes had sparkled nonetheless.

Keridwen laid the doll gently on the ground before she reached for Dori's cold, little hand, her heart feeling so terribly heavy as she felt the girl's small fingers in hers that she feared it would drag her down into the mud. Why had the girl even been here? She had given orders that the children were to be brought to the monastery, so that the monks could protect them in the upcoming fight.

Had she been looking for Khelgar as the building collapsed, burying her small form mercilessly under the stones?

_Oh gods, forgive me…_

"I'm so sorry, Dori.", she whispered, her voice quivering ever so slightly as she placed a soft kiss on the cold palm. "I'm so very sorry."

Suddenly, all the terrible events that had taken place in the recent past caught up with her, and Keridwen felt her hands tremble violently while she rocked slowly back and forth, Dori's little hand still in hers, and tried to fight the storm of emotions that was brewing inside her.

West Harbor lay in ruins now, and all the people she had known since the days of her childhood had been slaughtered, their bodies thoughtlessly left behind as a feast for the vultures. The Keep, the only other place that she could call home, had been dismantled, with her friends and family now gone, maybe even dead, and Bishop…

_Be strong, Keri. Don't give in. You…must…_

She fought another wave of despair that welled up inside her, trying harder than ever to regain her balance, but suddenly, it was just too much. So all Keridwen could do was cower between the deserted ruins, holding Dori's cold little hand tenderly in hers while tears streamed down her face, her heart aching so painfully that for a moment, she feared it would simply stop beating from grief.

"You have returned."

Keridwen whirled around at the sound of the hollow voice, hurriedly blinking her tears away as she stared intently into the shadows, her hand already reaching for the knife as her eyes searched for the mysterious speaker. There was a movement close to the door of the main building, and a small figure stepped out into the bloody sunlight of the courtyard, a woman with short dark hair, framing a pale face, and dressed in the long chain shirt and service coat of the Greycloaks.

Keridwen felt her heart ache painfully again, but now it was from hope, not grief.

"_Kana?_" Her voice was nothing more than a soft whisper, but it carried surprisingly far.

The woman approached slowly, her walk strangely sluggish, and Keridwen felt the blood in her veins run cold as she noticed the evil light in the woman's eyes and the wide slash in her chain shirt, the sliced service coat barely hiding the gaping wound on her torso or the bloody mess of her revealed guts.

"**He** hoped you would come.", Kana said with that terribly hollow voice again as she slowly lifted her arms, and there was a triumphant undertone in that voice that made a cold shiver of dreadful anticipation run down Keridwen's spine, chilling her to the bone. "**He** has a gift for you."

And under Keridwen's horrified stare, the dead of the Keep finally started to rise, to greet their former Captain.

*****


	7. Chapter 6

Under a Violet Moon

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form._

_Author's Note:__ So, finally things are heating up a bit and we have reached my first battle scene. I never wrote such a scene before, so I'd really appreciate to hear your thoughts – what did you like? What could be improved?_

_And again, I'd like to thank all of you who left a comment or added this story to their favs or story/author alert – your support is highly appreciated!_

_**Aeltari Kareidis:** Thank you so much for your kind words, dear – I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter, and that I managed to pull off the dark mood I was aiming for. And that's exactly why I love writing alternate stories – the momentum of surprise! ;P_

_**Psychic Koala:** I'm really happy to hear you liked the last chapter, especially the descriptions and Bishop's part. There he wanted to show that he can still be reasonable, and then she just ran off and left him behind – poor chap. ;)_

_**Minxie:** *laughs* I think Bishop would like to rescue her in epic fashion – then Keri would have to feel doubly ashamed for all the trouble she was causing him._

_**Kalyane:** Thanks, dear – your comment was lovely, and I really appreciate that you took the time to write it, especially when it was hard to do (which keeps surprising me, because your English is always well and understandable). I'm glad that Keri still seems human and likeable to you, and that you think that I'm adding some depth to Bishop while still keeping him in character, which is a wonderful compliment. You're right, they would deserve a happy ending of some kind… so we'll just have to wait and see what they'll do about, shall we? ;)_

*****

_**5**_

Although the world was still a place of twilight and bloodred shadows, it was now also a world of brutal clarity that cut like a knife through the veils of pretense and hypocrisy that helped most people to live their lives in peace, clinging like children to a candle in the middle of the night and hoping that its light would be enough to keep the darkness at bay.

Keridwen felt as if she kneeled at the edge of a wide, deep canyon, her eyes staring into the fathomless abyss of unspeakable horror and pain, and she knew without a single doubt that, should she ever stumble across its edge, only insanity would await her at the end of her desperate fall. She could hear the sounds of the rising dead surround her, closing in from all sides, but Keridwen's eyes were solely focused on the woman approaching her, and there was something so terribly wrong with her sluggish movements that it made cold shivers of dread run down Keridwen's spine, freezing her to the spot.

"**He** knows, Captain."

Kana's voice, usually deep and curt, was now a hollow, rasping sound that seemed to coil itself around Keridwen's head like snakes. Although the woman's dark eyes had dimmed in death, they still seemed to hold a painfully bright light, as if she was touched by a fever, and their burning stare drew Keridwen mercilessly deeper and deeper into their strangely shadowy depths.

"**He** can feel the pain that pulsates through you, echoing in the shard in your chest."

There was a sudden movement behind her, and Keridwen's eyes widened in alarm as a group of Greycloaks stepped out of the shadows of the main building, with their weapons in hand and their eyes shining with the same feverish light as those of her former second-in-command. Kana finally stopped a few feet away from her, her lifeless features forming a disturbing contrast to the fire in her eyes and the emotions Keridwen had heard in her terribly hollow voice, and it pierced her like a thousand needles in her heart while the words slowly poisoned her mind.

"All these doubts that eat at your very soul, Captain… all the despair."

Kana's rasping voice held a tone of gentle mockery, but there was also something reassuring in the way the woman spoke to her, a promise of happiness and salvation and the assurance that finally, someone would put an end to all the fear and doubt that Keridwen had been forced to live with for such a long time, and a part of her craved desperately for what the woman had to offer. Kana lifted one of her pale hands commandingly, and Keridwen caught herself just as she felt her own hand rise against her will.

_What's happening to me?_

Her hand started to shake violently as the geas that Kana had woven with her voice tried to force her to let go, to give in to the seductive insinuations and let her senses be drowned in shadow, but Keridwen fought. The woman still held out her hand, the rasp of her voice goading her to accept the offer.

"Come with us, Captain, and **he** will take all pain away from you. Join us, and together we can make this world a better place, restore it to its former glory!"

_Fight, Keri. You **must** fight. This is wrong!_

A soft, scratching noise at her feet caught her attention, and with great exertion, Keridwen finally pulled her eyes away from Kana's terrible burning gaze to watch Dori's little hand clawing deep furrows into the muddy ground, as if the girl was desperately trying to stand up, but the tons of stone that buried her small form obviously hindered her rise.

Keridwen could feel the dark powers pulsating through the ground beneath her feet emanating from Kana's destroyed form like heat from a fireplace, raising the dead with its unholy breath of life while it still tried to dominate her mind, but at the sight of Dori's sluggish movements something seemed to break inside her, and Keridwen realised that she had finally regained control of her movements once more. The urge to reach for Kana's offered hand was gone, and she inhaled deeply, steadying herself as she reached for the part of her soul that always urged her to keep fighting till the very end, no matter what the odds may be, and she let its strength surround her while her mind became sharp and focused once more.

_My way will **not** end here! I am Keridwen, a disciple of the blade, and I will **never** give in to the shadows, not as long as I still draw breath!_

Slowly, the former Captain of Crossroad Keep rose to her feet, Bishop's knife firmly in hand, and turned her sharp eyes to look calmly at the woman that she had once called a friend. Kana's terribly empty expression changed almost imperceptibly, as if the woman was surprised at Keridwen's sudden resistance, but now that she had finally broken the spell and regained her balance, Keridwen miraculously felt no fear at the sight of the numerous undead surrounding her, only a calm determination to do what needed to be done. Keridwen raised the knife in salute, and her voice, although calm and deliberate, rang across the courtyard like a bell, echoing ominously from the broken walls of the Keep.

"I am truly sorry, Kana, that I could do nothing to spare you this terrible fate. But I swear to the gods that from now on, I will not rest until **he** is defeated, so that you and all that have died for our cause can finally rest in peace!"

There was a long moment of silence in which the world itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting in almost fearful anticipation for the things to come while Keridwen's words still echoed from the walls. Then the ground under her feet shook ever so slightly, and suddenly, the undead jumped into action as they lunged for their former Captain, but Keridwen was already on the move.

With one fluid motion, she rolled to the left and right under her opponents, leading Bishop's knife in a swift upward arc while she got back on her feet, aiming for the tendons at the back of the knees of the living dead standing right before her. Her fast reflexes had brought her behind her opponent before he had even realised that she had moved, and she could feel the knife cutting deep into his flesh, felling the undead like a tree as his legs suddenly gave way beneath him. Keridwen heard his soft moan of surprise as his body hit the ground, but her mind was already focused on her next target.

_I need more room to maneuvre._

Four of her former Greycloaks were slowly closing in around her, their eyes gleaming menacingly as they raised their weapons, but Keridwen simply shifted her weight to her left hand and whirled her legs at the one closest to her. Her feet hit him with bone-breaking force against his temple, and the undead stumbled backwards, taking one of his comrades down with him as their feet got entangled and made them loose their balance.

Keridwen let her momentum carry her further and back onto her feet, just in time to parry a clumsily aimed strike for her head. She could feel the force behind the attack vibrate up and down the entire length of her arm, and she gathered all her strength to push the blade upwards, her body following swiftly through the opening she had created and bringing herself on the backside of her enemy. Before her opponent could react, she had buried the knife deep within his throat, satisfied as she felt its magically enhanced edge cut cleanly through flesh and bone.

The undead froze the very moment Keridwen's attack almost severed his head from his shoulders. For a fleeting second, he simply stood rooted to the spot, his arm half-raised in his attempt to turn around and press his attack, his head wobbling ominously, and Keridwen watched in surprise how the feverish light in his eyes first diminished and then died as the undead fell heavily onto the ground, his destroyed body now unmoving. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see more undead closing in around her, and Keridwen knew that she needed to find a way out of these ruins and back to open ground if she wanted to survive the day.

She was hopelessly outnumbered, and even her agility and superior reflexes wouldn't be enough to keep her alive if she was forced to fight in the narrow spaces between the broken buildings, with no possibility to outrun her enemies or to use their slowed movements to her advantage.

_Retreat to higher ground!_

Keridwen dodged another attack aimed for her head and stepped quickly through the opening before her, her feet carrying her unerringly across the ground and onto the pile of rubble that blocked the entrance of the outer yard. With some fast but well calculated leaps, she made her way across the stones while sheathing Bishop's knife under her belt, her hands reaching for the rough stones of the wall that separated the inner and the outer courtyard of the Keep, and with several swift movements, she pulled herself up onto the high wall.

She felt a burning stare in her neck and looked down, only to find Kana standing at the feet of the wall, simply staring up at her with that terribly empty expression on her face and her eyes burning like coals in the dim light. Her undead henchmen gathered slowly around her, obviously waiting for further instructions, and Keridwen couldn't suppress a cold shiver running down her spine as she looked into those disturbing eyes. Kana hadn't taken place in the first skirmish of the day, obviously preferring to watch the fight, and observed her attempt to escape with a calmness that was more than a little unnerving, and her dead eyes gleamed with inhuman curiosity as the woman simply continued staring, drawing Keridwen irrestistably deeper and deeper into their shadowy depths once more.

_Don't you **dare** let this filth distract you, woman. Now **move**!_

She didn't know why these words suddenly came to her mind, but they were enough to startle her out of her reverie. Keridwen turned around and sprinted across the wall, her feet carrying her away from her silent hunters and swiftly across the stones while she headed for the outer fortifications of the Keep.

Getting onto the battlements presented a real challenge. Although the walkway of the outer wall was almost on eye-level from the inner curtain, parts of these fortifications had partially collapsed during the siege, and Keridwen felt her heart grew heavy as she stood at the edge of the gaping breach that separated her from her way to freedom, and her mind was racing as she pondered on the remaining options.

A movement to her right suddenly caught her eye, and she turned to see an undead lizardman stepping out of the shadows of one of the towers that marked the staircases to the battlements, making his way slowly towards her. Keridwen could see more and more of the undead gathering in the yard below her, staring up at her with these terrible lifeless faces, and she decided that it was time to put her faith in the gods and make a run for it. Keridwen closed her eyes briefly, and after a short but heartfelt prayer to Lathander and Lady Luck, she ran and jumped.

Although she had estimated the distance correctly, she had not been prepared for the fact that the part of the wall that she had wanted to use as her take-off point would crumble right under her feet as soon as she stepped onto it. Keridwen lunged desperately for her destination as the wall suddenly collapsed beneath her, and she felt all air leave her lungs as her chest slammed with full force against the battlement while her hands and feet clawed desperately into the cracks in the masonry, searching for a hold.

For a few moments, she simply hung there, trying to catch her breath, before she gathered her last reserves and pulled herself slowly up onto the walkway, her arms aching painfully from the effort. She was attacked as soon as she got to her knees, the reptilian eyes of her opponent glowing with the same feverish light as those of his human allies, and Keridwen managed to get Bishop's knife out from under her belt just in time to parry the forceful blow of his vicious looking blade.

Keridwen felt her arm shake violently under the powerful onslaught of her enemy, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold long against her larger opponent with a weapon like this. Bishop's knife was an excellent choice for skinning pelt golems or stabbing someone in the back, as he had told her once in one of his rare humourous moments, but it was almost useless in close combat when she needed to parry blades or other weapons with it.

Keridwen deflected the edge of the sword to the right, dodging the lizardman's next strike and letting herself fall onto the ground while her legs kicked forcefully against his knees in an effort to bring him down. The undead stumbled and fell towards her, his blade clattering onto the walkway only inches away from her head, and Keridwen let go instantly of the knife and lifted her arms and legs instead, using his momentum and every ounce of strength she could muster to lift the lizardling off his feet and throw him off the battlements and into the courtyard below.

His body hit the ground with a disturbingly wet sound, and Keridwen felt no urge to turn her head and take a look at the mess. For a fleeting second, she simply lay on her back, breathing heavily while her limbs ached quietly from their strenuous work, but her instincts nudged her to move on, no matter how fatigued she might feel.

_Stay focused, Keri. You're not safe yet!_

Her eyes fell on the lizardling blade as she finally got to her feet again, and with one fluent motion, she picked it up along with the knife, making her way swiftly along the battlements towards the gaping hole in the wall that had once been the main gate of the Keep. As she passed the staircase, Keridwen could hear the shuffling of feet and see some shapes moving in its depths, and she knew that she didn't have much time before the battlements would be swarming with animated corpses, all hunting for her.

The staircase that had once been close to the gate and a part of the tower that Nevalle had chosen for his head-quarters lay now scattered across the courtyard and the fields, most likely blasted away by the same spell that had brought down the gate, but Keridwen wasn't aiming for the stairs. Her eyes scanned the shadows close to the wall and the fields beyond as the sounds of approaching footsteps echoed menacingly across the battlements, but she felt a wave of relief wash through her as she saw that most of the dead she had spotted on her way to the Keep were now gathering close to the gate, obviously intending to block any way out and therefore leaving the fields mostly unguarded.

_Now or never, Keri. There's no turning back._

After another short prayer, Keridwen sheathed Bishop's knife quickly under her belt, and with the lizardling blade firmly in hand, she stepped onto the charred wooden platform that had once been the landing bridge of one of the siege towers.

The wooden construction creaked almost foreboding and started to lean dangerously to one side as soon as Keridwen made her way carefully across the ruined platform, but to her great relief, it kept standing. The ground was somewhat slippery, and she avoided the large cracks and holes in the wood because she didn't want to risk to break in, but finally, she reached the staircase that led down to the ground.

Keridwen watched her steps as she slowly descended through the bloodred half-dark of the inner tower, her senses alert and taut like a bow-string while she listened intently. The smell of smoke and burned flesh hung thickly upon the devastated construction, and she was thankful for the cloth covering her mouth and nose as suddenly, her senses screamed in shrill alarm and a skeleton jumped from the shadows, its magically enlarged form clad in scale armour and swinging an impressive looking axe with both hands. Keridwen ducked just in time, the axe whirling so close past her face that she could feel the cool draught in the air on her cheeks before the axeblade embedded itself deep within the wooden wall, giving her just the opportunity she needed.

With all the force she could muster, Keridwen slammed her shoulder into the skeleton's bulking chest as it tried to retrieve its weapon, ignoring the pain in her upper arm as she felt her opponent stumbling under her swift attack and then falling down the stairs with loud rattling sounds, the axe still embedded in the wooden wall beside her face. She didn't wait for the undead to recover its strength, but followed it swiftly down the stairs and onto the next landing, her eyes carefully scanning the half-dark for other opponents.

The skeleton tried to rise as it heard the woman approach, its hellish red eyes piercing the bloodred shadows like two burning candles, and Keridwen heard a strange hissing sound escape its osseous jaws as she swiftly lifted her foot and slammed her heel with full force on the curvature of its skull, hearing the satisfying sound of breaking bones and feeling its pieces scatter under her hobnailed boot as the skeleton suddenly collapsed on the wooden floor and lay still, its limbs finally freed of the dark essence that had given them their unholy life, and Keridwen watched in amazement as the bones shrank back to their usual size.

_Mental note, Keri. Keep going for their heads!_

The entrance area of the siege tower had partially collapsed, which maybe explained why there had been no other unpleasant encounters on her way down the stairs, but it took Keridwen a while to search her way through the splintered wood and burst beams before she finally stepped onto the fields in the shadow of the Keep. Her skin was bleeding from several nasty cuts on her hands and face, but Keridwen felt her heart swell beside the pain as she looked onto the fields and the woods that stretched out before her. With no more undead standing in her way and the road to safety now lying openly before her, she felt hope spreading its wings and allowed it to raise her spirits in its path.

_Maybe I **will** live to tell the tale, after all!_

She sensed the looming presence even before she saw the sudden movement in the corner of her eye. A figure melted right out of the shadows of the tower and lunged at her, and all Keridwen could do was raise her blade in defense as the figure hit her hard in the chest, hurling them both to the ground with its forceful attack. The figure sat firmly on her upper torso, its hands ripping away the cloth covering her mouth and nose to search for her throat while its legs pinned Keridwen with inhuman strength to the ground, and she could feel her blood run cold as she recognised Kana's pale face in the twilight.

There was only a brief moment in which Keridwen wondered how the woman had been able to find a way from the inner courtyard to the foot of the siege tower in time to attack her before dead fingers closed tightly around her throat, and suddenly the world narrowed to the feeling of icy fingers pressing mercilessly into her skin and the hissing sound of her own breath as Keridwen desperately fought for air, all her instincts solely focusing on her survival.

Kana tightened her grip around her throat, and Keridwen could see bright spots of red and blue dance before her eyes, and she had to fight down a sudden wave of panic as she tried desperately to gasp for air… and couldn't.

_Fear is the mindkiller._

The litany against fear came suddenly to her mind, helping her in her fight for balance and calmness of heart, and Keridwen let go of her blade and reached with both hands for the fingers around her throat instead, her muscles flexing in a powerful attempt to break the undead's hold around her neck. Her sudden movement caught Kana by surprise, and Keridwen was able to loosen the icy grip around her throat long enough to draw a deep breath before the undead redoubled her efforts to choke her victim, her dark eyes still burning like coals in this terrifyingly lifeless face.

The moments passed with agonizing slowness, each stretching like hours while Keridwen lay on the ground, fighting for her life. She only managed to break Kana's grip long enough to take a short breath here and there, but the pause between these blissful moments became longer and longer, and Keridwen could feel her eyes darken as her strength diminished with each passing attempt to free herself, while her opponent simply seemed to reach deeper into her unnatural reservoir of power, her inhuman strength unwavering as her fingers cut deeper and deeper into Keridwen's flesh.

"_Hold_!"

A shout rang across the field and echoed loudly from the dark wall, its deep sound cutting like a knife through the ringing in her ears, and Keridwen was so surprised to hear this voice that she almost let go of her opponent, confusion mingling strongly with relief as she felt the beat of her heart quickening in anticipation.

_This can't be happening…_

Suddenly, the whirring sound of a bow-string carried with the wind, and Keridwen could see a fiery arrow soar through her field of vision just as Kana turned her head and looked up, obviously intending to make out the unsuspected disturbance. The arrow embedded itself deeply within her right eyehole, a shot that would have killed any living being in an instant but merely confused the undead sitting on Keridwen's chest, but a short moment of confusion was all she needed.

Gathering her last reserves, Keridwen let go of Kana's fingers and positioned her hands between her arms instead, reaching for every ounce of strength she could muster as she tried to push them to the sides to finally break their grip while she forcefully kicked out with her legs, trying to throw the undead off her lithe body and to the side. For a short moment, Keridwen feared that all her efforts had been in vain as Kana's fingers tightened around her throat once more. But after one last and desperate struggle, Keridwen finally managed to break the woman's vice-like grip and to throw her off to the right while she rolled quickly to the left and onto her feet again, her hand already closing around the hilt of her blade as she turned around to face her former second-in-command for the last time.

Kana simply looked at her, the fiery arrow still protruding from one eye while the other burned with its strange bewitching intensity, and for a fleeting moment, Keridwen saw a hint of emotion flickering across the woman's pale face before her blade came down in a wide arc and severed the undead's head neatly from her neck. _Was it anger she had seen on that face? Relief?_ Keridwen wondered briefly as she watched Kana's devastated body now lying still on the grass, but after this last exertion, her strength finally gave out, and all she could do was sink back onto the ground and gasp for breath as everything slowly faded to black.

There was the distinct sound of soft leather boots approaching fast across sandy ground, and Keridwen struggled to sit up, her mind acutely aware that she was still in danger. But her vision was still clouded and blurry, and after her most recent fight, she simply couldn't find the strength to keep moving. The footsteps came closer and closer, and then she was grabbed roughly around her shoulders and hauled up into a sitting position, her head swimming violently from the sudden movement. For a fleeting second, Keridwen feared that she would be thoroughly sick, and so she closed her eyes in an attempt to regain control over her body. A rough hand slapped her onto her cheek, firm but strangely gentle in its touch, and her eyes snapped open to focus on Bishop's angry face, his dark eyes burning and narrowed to slits.

Keridwen knew that there were still undead roaming free across the Keep and its surrounding lands, that she should either meditate to gather her strength or at least try to move on, but all she could do was stare at the man kneeling before her, with her eyes widening in disbelief and her mind in an uproar as confusion, relief and even joy mingled in her chest, her heart beating fast.

_I can't believe you're here._

Obviously, Bishop mistook her confused stare for exhaustion because he slapped her again, a little harder this time, and his voice was an angry growl as he spoke. "Don't you _dare_ start fainting right now, Captain. I may have carried you once, but I won't make it a habit- so if you want to get out of here alive, you'd better start getting a grip on yourself!"

"I won't faint!", Keridwen replied rather sternly, and it startled her as her voice didn't come out in its usual quiet way but in a strangely strangled sound, reminding her more of a croak than a human being. She had clearly underestimated the damage Kana had dealt with her hands, and the sudden pain in her throat made her want to wince. Bishop stared at her, and his dark eyes narrowed even further as he reached with his calloused hands for her chin to lift her head, taking a look at her throat.

Keridwen watched with growing concern as Bishop's eyes widened for a brief moment, only to be then set ablaze by the same raging fire she'd seen during the night of the siege as he'd grabbed her by the hair. His hazel eyes suddenly seemed to glow like liquid amber in the dim light of day, and Keridwen shivered as she realised where she had seen such eyes before.

_Wolf eyes. No wonder he and Karnwyr have bonded so strongly._

The fiery amber held a hint of the old turmoil she had seen so often in his eyes over the past few weeks, and just like then, it made her feel more than a little uneasy when he was so close to her. His gaze was somewhat frightening in its intensity, and Keridwen could think of only one thing to distract him to take this burning stare away from her.

"That was an excellent shot."

Bishop scowled at her croaked words, his sudden anger radiating so strongly from his tense form that Keridwen thought she could feel it stroking over her skin like a hot breeze. His hands didn't let go of her chin as he continued to stare hard into her eyes, and his voice became harsh and almost cruel as he spoke. "Now, now, Captain, you're not thinking that such _honeyed_ words will be enough to make me forget all the trouble you've been causing me, now do you?"

"Could I at least get some water before you start throwing a fit?", she asked quietly as she closed her eyes in an attempt to steady her weary self, her voice barely more than a croaking whisper. Bishop made a sound somewhere between an angry hiss and a growl, and she could hear the soft creaking of his leathers as he stood, finally taking his hands away from her face and no doubt still glaring at her with his blazing eyes, but Keridwen kept her own deliberately closed to evade his burning gaze.

She felt his hands close tightly around her arms, startling her out of her meditation, and before she could do anything but gasp in surprise, he had already dragged her roughly to her feet and was hauling her across the drillground, his anger still livid and clearly edged into the sharp lines of his face. Bishop held her left arm in a vice-like grip as he headed swiftly for the woods, his eyes scanning their surroundings for any signs of the enemy, and Keridwen had to hurry along to match his angry strides.

"Don't worry, Captain, I'll get to you soon enough. But we're still a little too close to the Keep for my taste, so I suggest you'd better start moving your legs, or I'll leave you behind."

"I _can _walk!", Keridwen replied a little tartly, but Bishop simply snorted and continued to drag her along with him, not letting go of her arm before they had finally reached the cover of the trees. She was secretly thankful for his support, for despite her own words, Keridwen had to admit that she was still too exhausted to walk far without help or a proper meditation, and her movements were not as vigorous as she had hoped they'd be.

Keridwen sat down on the mossy ground as soon as Bishop released her arm and stretched her legs, giving them a well-earned rest. Her fingers reached up to carefully probe her throat, and she inhaled sharply as even her gentle touch was enough to send a sharp ripple of pain through her body. Bishop knelt down behind her, and she turned her head just in time to see him holding out a small vial over her shoulder, her heart aching quietly as she recognised the sparkling green liquid.

_Sand made these before we set out to destroy the bridges._

Another wave of sorrow welled up inside her, mingling strongly with her exhaustion, but Keridwen forced herself to return to the here and now, fighting the pain. There would be a time to mourn what had been lost, but it was not now! The vial felt cool in her hands, and she cast Bishop a small, thankful smile despite the grim expression on his face. His posture had lost nothing of its tense hostility, and there was still a sharp edge to his voice as he finally addressed her, sending another wave of shivers down her spine as she felt his breath hot against her ear.

"Drink that! I'll take a short look at the surroundings, and then we'll _talk_."

He stood, and Keridwen saw a strange light flicker in the depths of his eyes as he continued to stare hard into her face. There was a sudden dark and dangerous undertone in his voice that she had never heard before, and she had to admit that it startled her a little.

"Just a word of advice to you, Captain. You've done nothing but wasting both our times with your futile attempt to _make a difference_, but I'll be quiet on that- for now! But I can promiss you, should I ever have to hunt you down again, you'd better believe that I would have to show you a more… _gentle_ side of my hospitality just then; so I'd suggest you simply make yourself comfortable and recover some of your strength while I'm gone."

His open threat made her raise her eyebrows in surprise, but she nodded nonetheless, signaling him that she had understood. His eyes narrowed to slits as he watched her, but after another hard and calculating stare, he simply turned around and made his way swiftly across the small clearing, heading for the fields. Keridwen followed him with her eyes, watching him move through the undergrowth and onto the open fields, using the ruined farmhouses for cover on his way back to the Keep, and a part of her wondered why he had come to her aid at all.

The memory of his voice, full of so much hatred and contempt, all directed at her, was still very vivid in her mind, and although it was truly painful to admit, it was obvious to her that his ill feelings towards her hadn't changed at all. So why had he come all this way to save a woman that he so clearly despised? What had happened between him and Duncan in the past that Bishop was so deep in her uncle's debt that he was even willing to risk his life, only to get rid of her one day?

Keridwen closed her eyes with a sigh as her trail of thought was again accompanied by a saddening feeling of loss and regret. She had accepted her role in this play long ago, and now wasn't the time to dwell upon the things that might have been, had she acted any differently. And why should he have friendly feelings for her, anyway? She had always been wondering about the lines he had drawn around himself, but had she truly been any different? She had deliberately kept her distance, even after he had started to open up in her company, always kind and understanding but never encouraging, and so he had maybe never realised how much she had enjoyed their conversations, in a friendly way.

_You cannot change the past, Keri. There are more important tasks at hand right now, and you'll need all your strength, should you wish to survive them._

Keridwen smiled sadly as the voice of her former mentor echoed through her mind, calm and reassuring, but it took her a while to work past the hurt and the pain and finally find the strength to go on again. With a sharp pull, she uncorked the vial in her hand, and the familiar spicy scent of magical herbs filled the air and made her nose itch uncomfortably.

_It's time to move on, Keri. You cannot change the past, but you **can** influence the future, and you dishonour your friends and everyone who has died for you today if all you can do now is sit here and lament your fate, while **he** is still out there, spreading his evil farther and farther across the world._

But what about Bishop? Was he not just another villain in this particular play now? Had he not abducted her from the Keep for his own selfish reasons, and ever _after_ she had refused his offer to run away with him, never thinking twice about how she might feel about it or what his actions would cost them in the end, as long as he got what he wanted? He didn't deserve her sympathy, after all. He had never cared for anything or anyone but himself, so why should she shoulder any regrets about the things she had never said to him, because it just wasn't the time?

Keridwen lifted the vial to her mouth and closed her eyes as she steadied herself, her jaw tightening in fierce determination once more.

_I regret nothing!_

The pain after the first gulp was almost unbearable, but Keridwen embraced the anguish rippling through her body as the cool liquid ran painfully slowly down her raw throat and to her stomach, letting the pain help her to wash away all her doubts and fears and regrets and leaving nothing but clarity in its path. A familiar warmth spread through her body, and Keridwen opened her eyes, the aching in her limbs already diminishing as the magic of the potion began healing her wounds, and she felt her spirits rise again as she finally regained her balance.

***


	8. Chapter 7

**Under a Violet Moon**

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form._

_Author's Note: Life kept me busy and away for a little while, but here comes another chapter for 'Under a Violet Moon'. I think this is one of my favourites so far, maybe because it's from Bishop's POV again and I really like what you learn about Bishop (and even Keri in a way) during this dialogue. But what do you think? _

_And again, I'd like to thank all of you who left a comment or added this story to their favs or story/author alert in the past days – your support is highly appreciated!_

_Minxie: *laughs* There's nothing wrong with you, dear - I think Bishop's most sexy when he's snarling, too, and I guess that's why he's always in such a foul mood. :D_

_Kalyane: You found one of my Keri-artworks by chance? How cool is that? :D_

_But thanks again for your comment - I'm glad that you like the way the story's progressing, and believe me when I say that Bishop will be more than needed way before the end. I'm also very happy that you liked that part about his eyes, and your thoughts about that scene - it was just what I wanted to show with that scene, so it's great it worked for you!_

_Natmonkey: Thanks a lot for your kind comment - I'm happy that you enjoyed the story so far, and hope that you'll the ones that are about to come._

_jpgfury: Thank you for your kind words - since I really want to keep Bishop in character, I'm always happy to hear when readers like my portrayal of him... and Keri's too, of course. ;)_

_And yes - this story is far from over, so there'll be more chapters to come._

_*******_

_**6**_

His blood was boiling.

Hot, pure rage flowed through his veins, twisting his guts and filling him with the almost irresistable desire to _maim_, to _kill_, to throw himself at the enemy and to slice and gut him like a pig just to watch him writhe at his feet in agony, the light slowly fading from his eyes.

Bishop clenched his hands into fists as he made his way swiftly across the open fields, the bloodred shadows hovering between the smouldering ruins matching his dark and fiery mood, and he knew that his teeth would shatter if he didn't find a way to finally vent some of his frustration.

_They'll regret that they've ever been born!_

Pity that whatever spell had caused the undead to rise, it had clearly vanished after the bitch had been decapitated. Bishop had carefully made his way back to the Keep, all senses alert and his weapons handy, for he expected all kinds of trouble, but all the dead seemed to have collapsed right where they stood after Keri had taken care of their leader, and there had been no enemies left for him to work off some of his frustration.

_They hurt her._

How he had wanted to rip the flesh of the dead bitch's body as he had seen what she had done to her throat! The memory of Keri's croaking voice and the bloodsmeared, fingershaped bruises on her fair skin was enough to rekindle the blazing fury pounding in his veins, and he ground his teeth again, a deep growl escaping his lips as he finally reached the first line of trees and headed for the clearing where he had left her behind.

_Stubborn, foolhardy woman!_

What had she been thinking, traipsing back to the Keep and right into the arms of her enemy like that? He had barely made it there in time to save her sorry hide, and he seriously doubted that she would have made it out alive, hadn't he come to her aid.

_And have you heard a single word of gratitude from her?_

She had just stared at him with these large blue eyes, her expression so terribly sad and disappointed, and that gaze had fueled his anger in a very different way. Who was she that she dared looking at him that way, as if _he_ had been causing all her problems, although it had been _him_ who had saved her life again and again?

_Should have learned it by now- good deeds **never** earn you anything!_

He had learned some interesting things on his way back to their hiding-place, though. The ground had been turned up by many boots over the past few days, but he had been able to read the different tracks nonetheless, and some of the things he had uncovered truly surprised him. But there was no need for rash actions. He would ponder on the news for a while before he would finally make his decision, and until then, he would keep his discoveries to himself.

She'd already run off into the arms of danger once. He'd be damned if he let her run off a second time, just because her feelings had overcome her good sense again!

The bloodred shadows under the trees were quiet as Bishop searched his way through the undergrowth, his soft leatherboots making no noise on the mossy ground as he followed his own trail back to the clearing, and his mind wandered. He had felt all day as if a dark shadow had been following him close on his heels, breathing down on his neck while he had been chasing Keri through the woods, and the feeling had seemed to increase with every step that had brought him closer to Crossroad Keep.

But now, that feeling of dread was almost gone, and he wondered why that was. Could it have been connected to the spell that had summoned the undead as well? But how was that possible? Raising the dead was one thing, but bringing down some kind of curse upon the lands was definitely another, and although becoming a Reaver had certainly added to Garius' magical powers, he simply couldn't believe that the man would be able to cast such a powerful spell.

He finally reached the clearing, and Bishop decided that he would have to postpone pondering on these things for a while. There was a Knight-Captain waiting for him that needed to be dealt with, and although a part of him would have loved to vent some of his frustration on her, he was very well aware of the vicious looking lizardling blade that she had acquired somewhere in the Keep. She had been exhausted and confused during their first meeting, and he hadn't given her any chance to think about him or his most recent actions as he had hauled her across the burned fields and under the shelter of the trees.

But he knew that she would have recovered some of her strength by now, and he wasn't sure what Keri would do with him now that she had had some time to think things over. Would she fight him? The thought made his guts twist and churn uncomfortably, and he convinced himself that this was nothing but a natural reaction to his dilemma. She was a weaponmaster, after all. He felt no desire to measure his skill against hers in a true test of arms, especially when his survival depended upon it. He liked to be on the winning side, after all.

Keridwen looked up as he stepped out from under the trees. He could see the lizardling blade lying on her knees and a piece of cloth in her hand, and she stopped cleaning the weapon to watch his slow approach, her gaze calm and demanding once more, revealing none of her emotions. Bishop ground his teeth again in an attempt to reign in his anger. Her calm composure was one of the things he truly didn't like about her. He was good at taunting his enemies, goading them with words and sly smiles to make them reveal their feelings and weaknesses to him, so he could use that knowledge to his advantage in a fight, always in control of the situation.

But not with Keri. She always kept her composure, no matter what he tried to get her riled, just staring at him with those large blue eyes, her expression carefully neutral, and so he never knew how to take her. Was she angry with him, somewhere deep inside that icy armour of cool concentration, or did she not care about his actions at all? He had to admit he didn't know what possibility angered him most, but it was unnerving to deal with a woman that could hide her emotions so well, and he didn't like it not to be the one in control.

"What have you found out?"

Her voice was quiet and calm again as she addressed him, which told him that the healing potion had been enough to heal most of her inner wounds, but at the sound of her words, he felt another wave of blazing fury well up inside him, and he felt his muscles tighten painfully as he had to restrain himself from rushing forward and hitting her hard in the face.

_You ungrateful bitch!_

Always the leader. Always giving orders, always commanding him around, asking him about his discoveries as if it had been _her_ idea to send him on another scouting mission, as if she was still the one in charge here. Where would she be now, had he not decided to take her with him in the first place? She would be dead now, having joined her undead little friends in the courtyard and following the Shadow army on its glorious attempt to conquer the world, and she still had the guts to treat him like one of her lackeys back at the Keep?

His fingers started to shake in his fury, but he simply gripped the hilts of his swords to hide his anger. He would stay calm. He would lead her to safety, just as he had promised himself to fulfill his debt to her uncle, but when they finally were even… A wolfish grin flickered across his face as the images entered his mind, and he shivered in anticipation. Oh, how he would make her pay in the end!

He sauntered slowly across the clearing, his eyes never leaving hers until he was standing right in front of her, staring down hard into her blue eyes. If she felt any discomfort about him standing so close and towering above her, she hid it well. Her expression stayed calm and relaxed, but now that he was near her, he could see a glint of anxiety shimmering in her eyes that almost made him smirk with satisfaction.

_Well, look at this! Not as unfeeling as you always wanted us to believe, are we now, Captain?_

He gave her one of his sly smiles as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, relishing the fact that he _was_ still in control. He was the one with the information, was he not? And not just with any information, but with one she desperately craved, or so it seemed. The question was, what would he have her do to get it from him?

The expression on her face changed almost imperceptibly as Keri continued to stare up into his face, and she cocked her eyebrows at him quizzically while one of her hands was stroking casually across the hilt of the lizardling blade. Everything about her bearing seemed to ask 'Do you really wanna play games with me right now?', and he felt his smile widen despite himself. She knew him too well. Good, no games then. There was still plenty of time for her to pay him back when this was over, after all.

"Well, Captain, seems to me as if your courageous intervention was enough to break whatever spell had been cast upon the dead. They've all gone to ground again, and there are no more undead roaming across the ruins of your precious Keep right now."

Keridwen's jaw tightened noticeably at his caustic reply, but she stayed focused, obviously unwilling to let his words distract her so easily.

"And… did you take a look at the tracks? Were there any survivors?"

_Careful now!_

She was looking up at him with that look of desperate urgency he'd come to know so well over the past few months, and the way her voice had shaken ever so slightly told him more about the turmoil in her mind than any motion he had seen from her all day, and he felt his anger cooling noticeably at her sudden weakness. Maybe he'd been too hard with her, after all. But was it really too much to expect a single word of gratitude after all the things he'd done for her?

He needed to choose his words carefully, though. She knew him well, or at least well enough to know when he was lying, and he didn't want to share all the information he had gathered as he'd taken a look at the various tracks. So all he needed to do was to convince her that there was nothing more to find out than the things he would allow her to know. And what was the best way of hiding a lie?

_Wrap it up in a cloak of truths._

"I've taken a look at the tracks around the Keep.", he admitted, his voice as sincere as he could make it and his expression cool and matter-of-factly once more. "There's been quite a lot of action over the past few days, but I managed to read some of the tracks."

Keridwen looked up at him, giving him her undivided attention, and he relaxed a little as he noticed the look in her eyes. If he just kept saying all the right things, and in just the right way, he'd be able to fool her without even having to lie to her outright.

_But why feeling any concern about lying to her at all? You've never felt any regrets when it came down to lying, so why start now?_

"Seems as if the Shadow army has retreated back to the South and the Mere, right after the siege.", he hissed through somewhat gritted teeth, trying to ignore the mocking voice in his head. "It seems as if they've been raising the dead of the Keep along with their own troops, because there were a lot of tracks of undead in Greycloak garment walking among Garius' corpses as they were heading back to the Mere."

She winced at his last statement, and it startled him as he saw a pained expression flicker across her face before she caught herself in the end. Her voice was quiet and sad as she replied.

"That's why there've been so few dead left at the Keep then, isn't it? They've been raised to fight alongside Garius' forces."

He nodded, her saddened voice rekindling his desire to maim and kill _someone_, and fast, but he fought it down. "Looks to me as if the dead here have been left behind to guard these ruins until they return."

Keridwen shook her head, her eyes wandering back to the Keep, and her voice was so low now that he doubted that anyone beside himself or the druidess would have been able to hear it. "They've been waiting for me. Kana said that _**he**_'d hoped that I would return."

He frowned, not sure what to make of this unexpected information. Keri seemed utterly lost in her thoughts, her eyes fixed somewhere on the horizon, and so he was a little surprised as she suddenly turned to look up into his eyes again, her gaze calm and demanding once more.

"Why are you here, Bishop?", she asked quietly.

He froze, surprised at her question and slightly irritated about the way his heart started to hammer in his chest under her scrutinizing stare. But he would be damned if he ever allowed her to see that she was actually getting to him! So he kept his voice carefully sarcastic and dismissive as he replied, his dark eyes staring hard into hers, and he was satisfied to see that she wasn't quite able to meet his gaze.

"You know _exactly_ why I'm here, Captain."

Her jaw tightened almost imperceptibly at his cool reply, and for a moment, he thought that he had seen her eyes become somewhat sad and disappointed again, as if she had been hoping for a different answer, but she had been quick about schooling her face back into that frozen mask of calm determination, so he couldn't be sure. But what could she have been expecting, anyway? That he would tell her that he had come back all this way because he actually cared for her well-being?

_Of course not, since we all know you're only risking your neck again and again for that slip of a girl because you **owe** her…_

He curled his lips in a light snarl and turned, putting down his backpack on the mossy ground and then kneeled beside it to search for his waterskin. Keri followed him with her eyes, her expression calm and unreadable again, and he used the opportunity to half-turn his head and cast her another scathing look over his shoulder.

"And besides, woman, you've taken some of my belongings, and I want them back- _now_!"

For a moment, she simply stared at him, her blue eyes unblinking. Then she reached slowly for the fastening of her cloak, and without another word, she handed him the woolen piece of cloth, along with his knife.

He was somewhat surprised to see her answering to his demand so promptly but took his things nonetheless, satisfied that he could put his old skinning knife back into its sheath across his chest. As he stood to fasten the cloak around his shoulders, he suddenly stopped, staring at the hem in disbelief before he turned to face her, his eyes ablaze.

"What have you done to my cloak?", he demanded angrily, his voice barely more than a growl. She answered his stare evenly, and he was surprised to see her actually smile at his reply, although it was a sad smile that did nothing to warm his heart.

"I'm sorry, but I was wounded and needed some bandages."

The memory of her cut bonds, lying in a pool of blood, came suddenly to his mind, and he growled again, tossing the cloak to the ground and kneeling beside her while he held out his right hand demandingly.

"Show me your arm."

Keri frowned, obviously surprised by his harsh command.

"What do you…"

He cut her off with an angry gesture of his hand while his eyes narrowed to slits, and his voice was dangerously low as he spoke. "Don't argue with me, _Captain_! I haven't come all this way just to have you die from blood-poisoning. Now keep still and show me your arm."

She obeyed, her eyes still questioning as he took her arm and turned up her sleeve, hissing through gritted teeth at the sight of the bloodstained woolen cloth around her lower arm. What had she done, trying to bleed herself to death with her attempt of freeing herself? He removed the improvised bandages carefully, inhaling sharply at the first sight of the wound, but then relaxed as he saw that the potion had already done a great deal to heal the nasty cut.

Without letting go of her arm, he half-turned to pull his backpack closer and rummaged through its depths, searching for his healer's kit. He felt her eyes on him while he took the kit out of his bag and started cleaning the wound with a clean cloth and a iodine tonicum, his motions stiff and angry, but he was still so furious about her willful maiming of his cloak that he didn't care whether he hurt her with his rough actions or not.

"Bishop?"

Her voice was calm and questioning, and he intentionally waited a few moments before he answered her, putting the tonicum aside and reaching for a small vial of healing ointment while he carefully avoided her eyes, his voice cool and annoyed as he spoke.

"Yeah? Something you need?"

She hesitated, and suddenly he knew what she wanted to ask. "Have there been others?" He spread the ointment over the cut, rubbing it in with his fingers to quicken its healing powers. He felt her arm twitch involuntarily under his rough touch, and he finally decided to slow down his motions to make her more comfortable. Bishop had to admit that the feel of her soft skin under his fingertips wasn't unpleasant, but there were other things he had to handle right now, and after pondering on them for a moment, he decided that it never hurt anyone to try and do the innocent.

"Others _what_, Captain?"

He cast her a short glance out of the corner of his eyes as he reached for clean bandages and found her still staring at him, the glint of anxiety back in her eyes, and her voice became more lively as she spoke. "Tracks. Leading away from the Keep and to the North, back to Neverwinter."

He skillfully bandaged her arm, taking his time to check that he hadn't fastened the linen bandages too tightly before he finally told her the lie that was actually a truth.

"Sorry to say that, Captain, but I've seen no tracks leading away from the Keep and to the North."

She was silent while he started to pick up the ointments and bandages, her gaze fixed somewhere on the ground beneath her feet, her mind wandering. When she looked up at him again, her eyes shone so brightly with barely concealed grief that it pained him just to watch her frozen expression, and he felt the sudden urge to pull her close, to hold her in his arms and stroke her soft hair just as he'd done the night before, trying to ease her pain, but a part of him resented this sudden touch of compassion.

_She didn't even thank you **once** for everything you've done for her, so why shouldn't she feel some of the pain she's been giving you…_

"So what now?" Her voice was quiet and unwavering without a single hint of the turmoil he had seen in her eyes and that must be tearing her apart deep inside that icy armour of controlled emotion, and admiration mingled grudgingly with his anger as she showed him the silent courage that had actually earned her his respect. He shrugged while he continued packing his equipment back into his healer's kit, deliberately avoiding her eyes.

"Don't know, really. There's something strange going on in these parts of the woods. It's as if a dark shadow has been following us on our heels, first up into the mountains and then back to the Keep. I don't like it!"

Keri leaned forward and reached for his hand. Her fingers felt soft and cool under his skin, and he was startled as she pulled him closer, but only to press his hand firmly onto the mossy ground beneath her feet, and he frowned, not sure what she wanted of him.

Then he felt it, too. A cold power pulsated through the earth and upward through his fingertips, faint but undeniably there, and the feeling reminded him strangely of the cool breath he had felt on his neck all day. There was something very familiar in the way the ground pulsated under his touch, though, and his frown deepened as his dark eyes bored hard into hers, finally remembering where he had felt a power like it before.

"This isn't good."

Keri released his hand, and another wave of anger welled up inside him at the sudden pang in his heart as she pulled her fingers away. What _the hells_ was just wrong with him? He didn't even _like_ her right now, with her being ungrateful and pert and so damn in control, so why should he feel anything when she finally let go of his hand? Her expression was calm and solemn as she replied, but there was still this saddened undertone in her voice that she couldn't hide.

"I know. _**His**_ influence is spreading. This presence permeated every wall and every body as I arrived at the Keep. Killing Kana seems to have weakened _**his**_ hold on the fortress and the surrounding lands, but we need to keep moving."

Bishop leaned back, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he pondered on their various options for a while. "I'd suggest we go back to the North, then.", he finally replied, keeping his voice carefully neutral while he watched her face closely to gauge her mood. "Retreating to the Neverwinter Woods and away from the Mere, when that's where _**his**_ influence is spreading from." Keri simply looked at him, her eyes again revealing none of her emotions, and he felt a hint of anxiety as he studied her calm expression. Had she fallen for his trick?

_Cursed be the woman and her adamant self-control!_

She kept looking at him, studying his face just like he was studying hers, and he would have taken any bet that she was just pondering on their options as well, no doubt wondering about his motives and if he could still be trusted, no matter how often he had saved her hide. Women!

_But wouldn't we all like to know that?_

Bishop growled deep in his throat just as Keri turned away from him and inclined her head, her eyes searching for the ruins of the Keep once more as she did so, and he got the certain feeling that she was carefully avoiding his gaze.

"Agreed."

He couldn't deny that he actually felt something close to relief at her approval, and so he stood rather abruptly, reaching for his healer's kit in an attempt to hide his own anxiety, and his anger was still simmering strongly in his chest. Why did she always seem to have such an effect on him, while he seemed to have no effect on her at all?

"Fine. So why don't you just get on your feet then, Captain, if time's really so crucial for our survival?"

She turned to face him again as soon as he addressed her in his usual sneering voice, and there was a look in her eyes that sent cool shivers running down his spine. Her eyes were hard, frozen sapphires that suddenly shone bright with emotion, and her lips curled in a strange mocking smile that he'd never seen with her before, and it thrilled him.

"I know. The sun won't slow it's rise for me, after all."

He answered her challenging stare evenly, torn between feeling stung to have his own words thrown back at him and being amused by her caustic reply. She had never been snarly before, but he had to admit that he liked the sudden change in her demeanour, and he wondered briefly if the loss of the Keep had affected her more than he thought. No matter what, they needed to keep moving, and although he would have loved to test his sharp tongue against hers, he knew that it would be easier to travel with her if he tried to smooth things over instead of making her mad. So he resigned to answer her stare coolly and trying to keep the sneer out of his voice, phrasing his reply with care.

"You're right, Captain, it won't. So let's keep moving while the sun's still shining, right?"

For the length of several heartbeats, Keridwen kept staring at him with those frozen sapphire eyes, and a part of him half-hoped that she would keep snarling at him, presenting him a great opportunity to vent some of his frustration, before her gaze softened once more and she finally got to her feet, the lizardling blade firmly in hand. Pleased that she had obviously come to her senses and had decided to be a good girl for once, Bishop kneeled beside his backpack again to stow away the cloak and the healer's kit, as his eyes fell suddenly upon the weapon that he still carried in his bag.

_Her blade._

He felt the beat of his heart quicken ever so slightly at the sight of Shiranui, and his mind raced as he pondered on his newfound opportunities. Should he give it to her now? Casting her a quick glance, he saw Keridwen standing a few feet away and to his left, waiting for him to finish his packing but intentionally not looking in his direction, and he hated to admit that it hurt to see her so hostile all of a sudden. Should handing her her precious sword not help him to change things between them to his favour?

_There's no time like the present, after all!_

So he drew a deep breath, closed his hand firmly around the wooden scabbard and prepared himself, the gentle touch of Shiranui's magic already vibrating through his fingers.

"Oh, and while we're at it, Captain, I think it's about time you start carrying your own weight!"

And with these words, he pulled the katana out of his backpack and threw it at her. She had turned at the sound of his voice, and although he could see that his sudden movement had caught her by surprise, she still managed to catch the weapon with a graceful flicker of her left hand. For the length of a heartbeat, she simply stared at the wooden scabbard in her hand with a puzzled expression on her face. Then her eyes suddenly grew wide, and she let go of the lizardling blade at once as her right hand reached out to touch the polished wood.

Bishop watched her fingers tremble ever so slightly as they caressed the smooth surface, trying to hide his own anxiety as he searched her face for telling signs of what she felt. Keridwen closed her eyes, and he saw her fingers tighten their grip painfully around the sword as she pulled it closer to her chest, her cheek now resting against the hilt of her blade.

Long moments passed in silence as she simply stood there in the bloodred shadows under the trees, savouring the feel of her weapon on her bare skin before she opened her eyes again, and it felt as if a rough hand had suddenly closed tightly around his heart, squeezing it mercilessly with its burning touch. Keri stared at him with an expression of utmost confusion and disbelief, and the strange feeling in his heart seemed to intensify as he saw her eyes shimmering brightly with unshed tears, their blue depths alight with a fire that sent more shivers running down his spine.

"But…how…?"

Her shining eyes and the soft, unbelieving tone of her voice somehow increased the strange feeling in his heart, making him feel even more uncomfortable. How was he meant to explain something to her that he couldn't even explain to himself? But he had learned to hide his emotions well over the past few years, and so he simply snorted dismissively as he changed his stance into a more relaxed looking pose, keeping his voice carefully neutral as he spoke.

"Woman, I planned to get you away from that mouldering shell of a Keep to keep you alive, not having you run back to your suite head over heels just to fetch your weapon. Did you really think I would have taken my leave without it?"

She lowered her gaze to the blade in her hand, and her next words were spoken so softly that he was barely able to make them out amongst the whispering of the leaves in the trees, but they set his heart on fire as he did.

"_Thank you_."

A sudden pang of fear mingled unexpectedly with the heat that spread through his body, making him feel vulnerable all of a sudden, and he reacted to it in the only way he could think of.

"Now, now, don't you start getting all sentimental with me, Captain. I didn't do it for _you_, after all. The only thing that matters to me right now is to repay my debt to your uncle, so you better don't start getting _ideas_."

The scathing words came out before he could stop himself, and Bishop silently cursed his sharp tongue as he suddenly noticed the small smile flickering across Keri's face, puzzling him. There were still tears shimmering in the long lashes rimming those blue eyes that still shone a little too brightly, but they held a sudden warmth that made his heart ache with longing for something he didn't fully understand, and he fought the sudden urge to reach out and caress the soft skin of her cheek as she answered his surly comment, her voice calm and vigorous once more.

"Don't worry, I won't."

Keri's gaze wandered back to the sheathed blade in her hands, and her fingers stroke softly across the polished wood of the scabbard one last time before he saw her shoulders lift with renewed determination, and she looked up at him to incline her head to the North and the woods that surrounded them, showing him this expression of calm and vigilance he knew so well.

"Lead the way.", she said quietly.

*********


	9. Chapter 8

**Under a Violet Moon**

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form._

_Author's Note: I know that I've been away for a while, but life kept me insanely busy. Sorry for uploading an old chapter by mistake - I did not intend to upload a new chapter at that point at all, so I guess I pushed the wrong button - but now that problem should be fixed successfully. Many thanks to the people who already sent me a note to tell me about my mistake, and I hope you all had a good time and wonderful holidays while I was away, and wish you all the best for the New Year... and to make up for my long absence, this chapter got much more words and events than the last one. Enjoy! :)_

_And again, I'd like to thank all of you who left a comment or added this story to their favs or story/author alert in the past weeks – your support is highly appreciated, and it's that support that keeps me writing, no matter what!_

_But now to my faithful reviewers:_

_**Psychic Koala** I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed the latest chapter, and that Keri's still a likeable character. And thanks a lot for pointing out some phrases that you found strange - I really appreciate it! :)_

_**Aeltari Kareidis** You're right, dear - he is a beast, but that does not mean that he doesn't have feelings. I'm glad that his inner struggle is palpable and (hopefully) in character._

_**imenyaciandar** Thank you for your review - I'm glad that you enjoy all the little twists to the original campaign so far, and your words about my writing are a wonderful compliment and a great motivation to keep going!_

_**Ra'iira the Fiend** Thank you for your reviews, I'm glad that you like the idea for this story - if the game doesn't allow the KC to run away with Bishop, we have to use fanfics to make things right, right? ;)_

_**vivienl** Thanks so much for your review - I'm glad that you enjoy the story and dialogues so far and truly hope that this chapter won't disappoint as well._

_**Llandaryn** Thank you so much for all the reviews - I think it's only fair to reward you for your fast reading and commenting by uploading another chapter. Creepy, malevolant Bishop is the best, so I'm certain there will be more of that, and I'm truly happy that you like Keri's character and can relate to her grief and difficult situation. Yes, it was an Illefarn ruin in her dream... but I won't say no more. :D_

_***  
_

**8**

They walked through the woods in silence, first over the hills and then up into the mountains while the sun made its slow way across the sky, still casting its eerie, bloodred light. Bishop led the way, quickening his pace now and then to scout the path ahead, but he always took care to stay within sight. Whether he didn't want them to be separated too far or whether he just didn't trust her enough to leave her alone, Keridwen couldn't say. But he kept his distance otherwise, obviously lost in his own thoughts, and for that, she was grateful.

After everything that had taken place in the past few hours, Keridwen felt strangely like a leaf in the stream, simply following the riverbends as the water carried her here and there, but with no real control of where she was going. Although her whole world had been turned upside down in an instant, and although she had done her best to accept this new turn of events instead of succumbing to grief and despair, she couldn't help but to wonder where it might lead her once the river reached the ocean.

Yesterday, she had still been the Lord of a great Keep, freshly returned from a victorious battle, her path seemingly set in stone and an army standing behind her to help her achieve her goals. Now, she had been abducted by one of the few residents of the Keep that she had called 'friend', Crossroad Keep itself lay in ruins after the Shadow army had assaulted the stronghold, and all her friends and companions were now gone - except the one who had abducted her in the first place.

Keridwen watched Bishop as he kneeled to examine the game trail they had been following for what felt like the best part of an hour, his brows furrowed in deep concentration as he studied the various tracks. Whatever he read on the ground didn't seem too disturbing, though, because he simply stood and continued walking down the path and through a shallow brook, but not without casting her another dark and unreadable look out of the corner of his hazel eyes before he returned his attention to the road ahead.

Every time she had watched his lithe figure during the first hour of their walk, Keridwen had felt her heart ache helplessly as confusion had mingled strongly with her grief, and her inner turmoil had eventually numbed her senses up to the point where she had finally given up on finding an answer to the question that seemed to burn her very soul.

_Why?_

First, everything had seemed so clear. The friend had finally become a foe, and so Keridwen had decided to treat him as such, had let go of all the doubt and regret that had threatened to overwhelm her fragile emotional balance, and had found calm and strength in her decision in the end. But then, everything had just changed again. Why had he even come to her aid? Why would he risk his own life when his debt to Duncan must have been paid time and again? And why did he have to hand her her beloved sword exactly the moment when she had finally made her decision, making it almost impossible for her to hate him the way he deserved for all that he'd done?

Keridwen let her fingers wander over the wooden scabbard of her katana one more time, and she felt tears well up in her eyes again as Shiranui's gentle magic flooded her being, easing her pain just with its gentle touch.

She wondered briefly if Bishop even understood what he had done for her.

As she had stood in the ruins of Crossroad Keep, watching all the death and destruction around her, her heart had wept bitterly for all the lives that had been lost - her father, Nevalle, her friends, her comrades… but along with her beloved ones, it had grieved for the final loss of her sword as well. Since she had seen Shiranui standing in a merchant's rack on a Harvest Fair more than a decade ago, she had carried no other blade until the silver sword had been forced upon her, and there had been no words to describe how much it had pained her to leave Shiranui behind to fulfill her task.

Keridwen could still remember how she, a teenage girl then and not nearly finished with her warrior training, had returned to West Harbor from the house of her masters for her regular stay during the winter to stroll across the Fair with Bevil and Amie as her eyes had fallen upon the sword. She had reached for the katana with shivering hands, her fingers moving forward almost on their own account, and in her mind's eye, she could still feel how the blade had responded at their first touch, its gentle magic vibrating through every fibre of her being, and how she had drawn the blade from its scabbard to make some moves to test the sword, thrilled at its perfect balance and weight.

A figure had suddenly appeared beside her, and she had turned, only to find Daeghun standing there and watching her closely with his usual scrutinizing stare, his face calm and unreadable. Her father had remained silent, had just been staring intently into her face with his piercing eyes, and then had simply lifted his head and had addressed the merchant in his cool, controlled voice, asking for the sword's price.

_He knew that I had bonded with the sword, even if I didn't know it myself at the time_, Keridwen mused while she searched her way through the brook with care, trying to keep her feet as dry as she could. The katana had cost a small fortune, and she had felt her heart sink as the merchant had named the price, but Daeghun had paid it nonetheless. She had never known how her father had been able to spend what had felt like an insanely amount of gold on a weapon back then, and had felt guilty all their way home, the sword suddenly weighing heavily in her hand.

Later, when they had sat down for dinner, Keridwen had offered her father to repay him one day (although she had had no idea then how to earn that much gold in a whole lifetime), but Daeghun had just shook his head. "I could afford it." Then his eyes had narrowed, and he had watched her closely, thinking. "But if you really want to repay me, child, I suggest that from now on, you work harder to master your craft. It is a fine weapon you have now, and it should be wielded with skill and dedication."

And she had trained hard since that day, redoubling her efforts to perfect her moves and make the weapon a part of her self, and even after her masters had finally allowed her to leave their house as a fully trained warrior, she had never stopped working on her skills, had always sought to improve herself so that her father would be proud of her one day.

What had happened to Daeghun when the Keep fell? Was he dead now? The thought made her heart ache painfully again. So many words were still unspoken between them, and that she might never have a chance to talk to him again, to say him that she understood and how much she loved him, hurt more than she could say.

A sudden movement to her right caught her attention, and she looked up, alarmed, but the hand around Shiranui's hilt relaxed when she only saw Karnwyr trotting out of the undergrowth, casting her a quick glance over his shoulder before he swiftly made his way along the path to catch up with his master.

Bishop bent down to scratch the wolf behind his ears, and Keridwen felt strangely touched as she saw the ghost of a smile flicker across the man's face as the wolf wagged his tail contentedly, obviously appreciating the small show of affection. The ranger stood and then turned, waiting for her, and Keridwen felt the conflicting emotions that had been subdued by sheer exhaustion rise anew as she stared up into the man's dark, hazel eyes.

"The sun is setting.", Bishop stated matter-of-factly as soon as she approached, his posture as cool and dismissive as usual, but Keridwen could still hear a hint of that ghost-smile in his voice, and it startled her as her heart gave a sudden pang at the rare sound. "I'd like to set up camp as long as it's still shining, so that I can take a closer look around before we settle in for the night."

Keridwen nodded, preparing for a reply, but Bishop simply turned around and continued his way down the trail without casting her another glance, leaving her in stunned silence. Karnwyr stayed behind for a moment to watch her intently with his bright wolf eyes, and she answered his stare evenly until he finally set out after his master, but not without nudging her hand softly with his snout before he took off, and Keridwen almost jumped at the wolf's unexpected touch. She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly, trying to calm her weary heart, but it was difficult.

_Stay focused, Keri. You've chosen to accept this new path, remember? There's no turning back now._

But it was hard to come to terms with the truth, much harder actually than she had expected. How often had they searched their way through the wilderness like this, with Bishop leading the way and Keridwen and her other companions close behind, following him into the woods? But this had been at a time where Keridwen had thought that there had still been a bond between them, and even if it had always been more a bond of respect rather than friendship, it had been a bond nonetheless.

To see that it had been nothing more than a misconception on her part, that he had only stayed reluctantly and simply because of his debt to her uncle and that he obviously loathed her just the way he had loathed Casavir or Nevalle or all the other knights of Lord Nasher's court made her feel strangely lonely all of a sudden, although she did her best not to let his open dislike affect her too much.

_Focus, Keri. There are more important things at stake right now, so don't burden yourself with the shadows of the past!_

They finally set up camp on a small clearing that lay almost picturesque amidst old oak trees, but the bloodred sky and growing shadows of the late afternoon dimmed the place's natural beauty. Keridwen watched Bishop's experienced movements as they prepared their camp in silence, and once again, her thoughts drifted back to her childhood and the time when Daeghun had tried to teach her his craft.

She had almost seen eight summers as her father had taken her with him on one of his hunting trips into Neverwinter Wood, intending to show his foster-daughter how to set up a camp, making a fire and where to search shelter from a storm. Keridwen had done well at first, had even managed to learn the names of the trees and plants as well as maintaining Daeghun's knives and bow, but as they had started the actual hunt, it had been obvious all too soon that she may have a talent with weapons, but none for tracking at all.

Keridwen could still remember the look on Daeghun's stern face, lit by the dim light of their camp fire, and how his cool voice had sounded almost a little annoyed as he spoke. "Well, child, I fear we both have to face the truth that you don't have the instincts for the life of a woodsman at all." She had felt small and useless all the way back to West Harbor, and Daeghun had done little to lighten her mood. So, as her father had stated only a few weeks later that they'd go on just another journey together, Keridwen had been far from thrilled.

They had travelled to the South and East, to a small settlement in the Kryptgarden Forest where two of Daeghun's former companions had settled down after their adventuring days and had taken it upon them to train a new generation of warriors in their craft. First, Keridwen had enjoyed their stay with the elderly, friendly halfling woman and the tall, grey-bearded man with the deep voice. But as Daeghun had told her that she would have to live in this house from now on for the most part of the year to learn how to use a sword and that he would take his leave to West Harbor the next day, she had started to cry hysterically, filled by a child's fear to be abandonned by her parent because of her lack in ability.

Daeghun had just watched until her high-pitched sobs and screams had ebbed away before he had kneeled in front of Keridwen's crouched form, his voice cool but not unpleasant, and the hand he had placed on her forehead had been the closest thing to a caress that Keridwen had ever experienced in her short life. "I understand that this is troublesome for you, child, but I hope you will see the reason in time." And with these words, he had simply stood and walked away, leaving his foster-daughter alone in the quickly darkening room.

Keridwen smiled ruefully at the memory. It _had_ taken some time, but she had been able to see the reason behind his actions in the end. A sharp nudge startled her out of her reverie, and she looked up, puzzled, only to find Bishop crouching in front of her, an unreadable expression on his face and the usual sneer back in his voice.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Captain, but you'd actually be of more use to _both_ of us if you could just take my flint and get a fire going instead of staring blankly into space."

Keridwen felt her cheeks reddening at his caustic reply, and she frowned, surprise mingling strongly with her embarrassment as she saw that he had already prepared a fire place. She had to be more tired than she'd thought if she hadn't noticed him working right under her nose until he touched her, and it angered her that she had gotten so careless all of a sudden.

_Focus, Keri. Such things can get you both killed._

Her embarrassment seemed only to intensify as she noticed the smug gleam in his eyes, but she had to admit that there was nothing she could do about it anymore. He had caught her red-handed, and they both knew it.

"A fire? Do you think that's wise, after all the things that have happened today?"

Bishop gave her one of his wry smiles, the smug gleam still in his eyes, and Keridwen felt a shiver running down her spine, despite the fire that burned in her cheeks.

"Look, Captain, the nights are cold up here, and _that_…", here he suddenly reached out and tugged playfully at the sleeve of her tunic, "… won't do you much good out here in the woods after sunset. Besides, you should be thankful for a warm meal. We may have to live from hard bread and musty cheese soon enough."

Keridwen tried to cast him a stern look, but couldn't deny that there was actually some wisdom in his words. Now that the sun was setting, she could already feel the shadows growing colder, and after another long moment of consideration, she simply nodded in agreement.

"I'll make a fire, then."

Now that he kneeled so close, his sharp eyes seemed to pierce her very soul with their dark gaze, making her feel strangely uncomfortable all of a sudden, but Keridwen stood her ground and answered his stare evenly. For the length of several heartbeats, they just looked at each other. Then Bishop inclined his head, and his voice was surprisingly calm as he spoke.

"Good."

He stood, and it was only then that Keridwen noticed that, although he was still wearing his swords, bow and quiver, he had already taken off his backpack and had put it down beside the fire place.

"I'll take a short look around. I saw no treacherous trails on our way up here, but keep your eyes open and your weapon handy. I'll be back before sunset."

Keridwen nodded, and for a fleeting moment, she truly struggled with herself whether she should wish him a safe journey or not. But as she had finally made up her mind, Bishop had already moved on and was silently disappearing into the woods, bow loosely in hand and Karnwyr close on his heels. Keridwen tried to follow them with her eyes, but as soon as they had entered the bloodred shadows under the trees, they were gone, and she sighed as she felt her heart grow heavy again. Unsure what to do about her sudden discomfort, she simply stood and reached for his backpack, forcing her troubled mind to focus on the fire for now.

* * *

The flames crackled merrily in the last light of day, and Keridwen paused for a moment to watch their intricate dance before she finally kneeled and stored flint and steel away again. Casting a long glance at the swiftly darkening sky, she frowned, and the slightest bit of worry began to creep unbidden into her heart. It was more than the half of an hour since Bishop had taken his leave, and she finally started to wonder when he would return from his short look around, and whether she shouldn't have gone with him in the first place to watch his back.

A part of her felt strangely guilty at these thoughts. After all the things he had done, how could she still feel worried about his safety? But he had come and saved her in the ruins of the Keep, no matter what his intentions, and with the power of the King of Shadows reaching out from the Mere, the woods were a dangerous place even for a ranger with Bishop's exceptional skills and instincts. It was painful to admit, but Keridwen knew that she needed him if she wanted to leave these woods alive.

It was not an all too pleasant thought, though, that the only companion she had left was the one who disliked her the most and who could be the least trusted, but there was little she could actually do about it. Unwilling to let these dark thoughts determine her mood any longer, Keridwen reached for her sword again, and Shiranui's gentle touch alone was enough to bring a small smile to her face. It had been a while since she had gone through her _kata_, and it would help her clear her mind.

She kept her movements slow at first, intending to reforge the bond between her and the blade and to get a feel for the weapon again, but after her first pass, she simply let go, and her body glided through the familiar positions with almost effortless fluidity. Shiranui whirled through the air, its blade a shimmering line of silver reflecting the firelight, and its magic vibrated in perfect unison with Keridwen's graceful, fluent movements. She did not know how long she danced with her blade, but with each completed _kata_, she could feel how the heaviness in her heart diminished until all the grief and fear finally fell off, leaving her more light-hearted and confident than she had felt in many a day.

Her instincts, heightened through her meditative sword dance, nudged her sharply all of a sudden, and Keridwen turned around, only to find Bishop standing under the trees, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight. For a fleeting moment, there was nothing but joy and confidence filling her heart, and Keridwen smiled as she saw that he had made it back safely. But then the memories returned, along with the heaviness in her heart, and the smile died on her lips as soon as it had appeared.

She quickly turned away from him and sheathed her sword, the joy of being reunited with her chosen weapon already crumbling to ashes. What had she been thinking? He had betrayed her trust in him in more ways than she could count. So why was she still treating him like a friend, when he had made it clear enough that she could go to the bowels of hell for all he cared? Once more, the now familiar pang of loneliness ripped her heart, and Keridwen put Shiranui aside to reach for his backpack, searching for the waterskin to distract herself from the unwelcome pain.

_Fear is the mindkiller_, Keridwen intoned silently as she drank deeply from the skin, trying to regain her emotional balance and to ignore the man that made his way slowly towards her across the clearing._ I will face my fear and let it pass through me, and in the end, only I remain._

She heard the soft creaking of his leather armour as he stepped up beside her, but Keridwen simply focused on the waterskin in her hand and did not turn around. There was another sharp nudge on her shoulder, and she looked up reluctantly to see Bishop standing before her, holding out a small cloth bundle with his hand while his dark eyes bored hard into hers.

"Can you hold these for a moment, _Captain_?"

His voice was as cool and biting as ever, but there was a strange look in his eyes that startled her enough to make her take the bundle from his hand without questioning. His face was carefully void of any emotion, but Keridwen had seen this expression often enough to know that it was just one of the masks he was wearing to hide his true feelings. The sole mirrors to his soul were his eyes, and if she hadn't known better, Keridwen would have said that he looked... hurt, somehow. But why would Bishop look hurt?

_Focus, Keri. You're already imagining things!_

She let her attention wander to the comparatively safe bundle in her hands, and was surprised to feel several small, oval-shaped objects under her touch.

"Are these eggs?", she asked curiously. Bishop nodded as he first laid down his bow beside her and then reached up to unbuckle his quiver, his dark eyes still boring into hers.

"They are indeed. It's already too late to go hunting, but some unlucky quails crossed my path, and I thought that the Captain would welcome a warm meal nonetheless."

There was an undercurrent in his voice that didn't seem to fit for just another one of his usual caustic remarks, and strangely enough, it made Keridwen feel guilty all over again, although she tried hard to fight it down. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and then looked up to meet his burning gaze evenly, her voice calm and measured as she spoke.

"She does indeed."

Bishop's eyes narrowed slightly at the sound of her voice, but Keridwen could see some of the tension leaving his body as he finally tore his eyes away from her and put down the quiver beside his other belongings. He straightened himself to pass his hands through his short, dark hair, and the tone of his voice was surprisingly calm as he replied.

"Well, now, then I'd suggest you reach for the pack and hand me our provisions, Captain, and then I'll see what I can do."

They only had a limited list of ingredients at their disposal, but with some onions, meat and eggs Bishop managed to create a halfway decent omelette, and Keridwen felt her hunger return with full force at the smell of roasting meat. It suddenly occured to her that she hadn't eaten anything since Neeshka had forced a slice of buttered bread into her gloved hand on the way from her suite to the main gate yesterday afternoon, and so she ate with ravenous appetite, her spirits lifting remarkably as the warmth of the meal spread through her stomach.

The sun had set while they had prepared their dinner, and Selune had risen in the East, her light still strangely distorted by the dark clouds that drifted from the Mere. Karnwyr had reappeared at their camp fire as soon as they had started eating, and now lay outstretched beside his master, happily lapping the last bits of meat and omelette out of the small pan, and the licks of his tongue were the only sounds that disturbed the silence of the woods.

Keridwen sat close by the fire, hugging her legs loosely against the cool night air, and watched Bishop out of the corner of her eye as he maintained his gear. They had kept their silence during the long hours of the evening, both obviously lost in their own thoughts, but she couldn't fail to notice that sharing a fire with Bishop felt not as awkward as she had expected, considering the latest events.

Instead, she felt almost comfortable in his presence, the silence between them more amicable rather than distressing, and it troubled her. It just didn't feel right to be comfortable in his presence anymore, not after all the things he had done, and Keridwen couldn't suppress the gnawing feeling that she was actually betraying the memory of her friends just by sitting here, still keeping company with the man who had betrayed them all. But what else could she have done? She was so wrapped up in her dark thoughts that she only realised that Bishop had put aside his gear and had moved to another spot at the fire as he finally addressed her in his mocking voice, startling her out of her reverie.

"You should lay down and get some sleep, Captain. I'll take first watch."

The thought of going to sleep with those dark thoughts still troubling her mind wasn't very appealing, and so Keridwen shook her head, intending to try and calm her aching heart before she would finally lay down to rest for the night. The wind freshened up and made her shiver despite her thick tunic, and so she leaned a little closer to the flames to hug her legs more tightly as she replied.

"You stayed awake all night to keep watch. I'm not tired, and there are… things… I still need to think about. I'll take first watch."

He stared at her for a moment with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he shrugged and made his way around the fire, obviously intending to reach for his backpack and untie his bedroll.

"Whatever you wish, _Captain_."

That sarcastic reply sounded so much like him that Keridwen almost smiled, which did nothing at all to ease her troubled feelings. The wind was constantly tugging at her collar now and tousled her hair, but she did her best to ignore the cold that was slowly creeping into her limbs. Bishop seemed to notice, however, because he took off his cloak and threw it at her, catching her by surprise.

"Here, take the cloak.", he said gruffly, careful to keep his back to her as he laid out his bedroll. "You'll only get a cold. And besides, ", here he turned and cast her one of his sly smiles, making a different kind of shiver running down her spine, "It seems we're going to share a bedroll anyway, so we might just share the cloak as well, right?"

Her icy reply came out before she could stop herself.

"I'm _not_ sharing a bedroll with you!"

His smile widened at her words, but there was an angry gleam in his eyes that he couldn't hide, and his shoulders tensed noticeably as he replied.

"Fine. Just keep in mind, Captain, that when it's my time to take the watch, I'll have my cloak back. Actually, I don't think it's wise to try and sleep on the ground dressed like that, but go ahead anyway. Just don't complain when I leave you behind because you've gotten sick."

He was right, of course, but that stubborn part of her self simply refused to admit that there was actually some truth hidden in his words, and so Keridwen simply threw the cloak around her shoulders and settled down at the fire place to stare into the flickering flames, purposefully avoiding his eyes while her mouth was pressed into a thin line. She heard Bishop's amused chuckle as he made himself comfortable in his bedroll, obviously preparing for sleep, and wondered briefly how she could ever have felt worried about his safety at all.

So she sat silently under the night sky for a long time, watching the violet moon as it made its slow way across the sky, and her dark thoughts and troubled feelings were her only company, for Karnwyr had returned to the woods shortly after his master had gone to sleep. When it was finally time for the change of guards, Keridwen stood and stretched her aching legs before she made her way around the fire to wake her companion. Her thoughts were still in an uproar, but the gnawing feeling of guilt was gone, and she hoped that some rest would be enough to regain her balance.

She noticed the smug look in Bishop's eyes as she handed him his cloak, and glared at him as she reached for his bedroll, daring him to say a word. But the ranger just cast her another sly smile and returned to his place by the fire, obviously enjoying himself, and Keridwen ground her teeth as she slipped between the leathery sheets, determined not to show him her sudden discomfort. The sheets were still warm from his body, and his rich scent filled her nostrils as soon as she lay down, earthy and masculine but not unpleasant, and the memory of the dream came almost instantly to her mind, startling her.

The cosy warmth of his bedroll reminded her of the feelings of his arms, surrounding her, and although she did her best to fight the memories back to the deepest regions of her mind, she could still feel his hot breath on her neck and could hear the deep rumbling of his voice, telling her that she would be safe. But then she felt his hand grabbing her hair again to pull her closer, his eyes blazing with fury, and heard his voice clearly in her mind, so full of hatred, full of contempt, and her heart ached painfully as she had to face the bitter truth once more - it had been nothing but a dream.

Keridwen turned her head to see his dark silhouette sitting beside the fire and knew without doubt that, although he was here with her, she was still on her own out there, and the loneliness suddenly weighed heavily upon her. So she lay under the violet moon for a long while, left with her thoughts and the wind, and sleep did not come easily.

* * *

The fire had burned down to barely more than a few gleaming pieces of charcoal during the long hours of his watch, but Bishop was glad that he had been able to convince Keri to light one in the first place, because the nightwind was cool and he shivered even with his thick, woolen cloak around his shoulders.

He moved his hands a little closer to the fire, relishing the heat that spread through his fingers and cast a quick glance at the sky, trying to estimate the hour of night. The violet moon had almost finished its way across the sky and was already disappearing behind the mountains, which meant that dawn couldn't be much more than two hours away.

Bishop reached for another piece of wood and cast it into the fire, carefully fanning the live coal until small, orange flames began to lick hungrily along the branch, illuminating the face of the sleeping woman lying beside it with their crimson light.

He watched how the light of the flames played with her delicate features, and felt a sudden pang in his heart at the peaceful expression he saw on her face. He hadn't liked to see her so still during the long hours of their walk, seeming so withdrawn from everything that happened around her. But he had had no idea what to do or say to ease her pain, and so he had kept his silence most of the day, afraid that a wrong word would break the fragile truce that they had reached after he had handed her the katana.

He grinned at the memory of her startled face as he had nudged her sharply in the ribs while setting up their camp, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment as she realised that he had actually caught her staring blankly into space, and he had to admit that she really looked quite lovely with some colour in her face. But that thought only brought other memories to his mind, and he frowned as the feelings her image was stirring seemed to form a tight knot in his chest, troubling him.

He could still feel his heart ache at the memory of Keri going through her _kata_ as he had returned to their camp, awed by the simple beauty of her graceful movements, and he still remembered his surprise of how much this intricate dance differed from the way she used to carry the silver sword as Keri had suddenly turned around and had seen him standing there under the trees, watching her.

She had stopped in her _kata_, and he remembered the warmth that had spread through his body at the sight of the happy, genuine smile that had appeared on her face, rekindling a light in her eyes that he hadn't seen there for many a day, not since Garius and his Reaver friends had started to press forth their attack on Neverwinter and its surrounding lands.

But then, the light had seemed to fade as soon as it had appeared, along with the smile, and she had been quick to turn away from him, pretending that she was searching for the waterskin in his backpack, but he had understood. He may have handed her her sword, and she may have agreed to travel with him to the North, but that did not change things between them. No matter how calm she had spoken whenever he had addressed her afterwards, Keri had been treating him more like a stranger she had just met on the road, and not like the companion he had used to be.

He should have expected something like this to happen, after all the long talks that he had overheard between her and the paladin about honour and trust, but it still hurt to see her so distant all of a sudden, especially when things had used to be much different between them, and a part of him _loathed_ the fact that her sudden coolness affected him at all.

_What could you expect from a righteous little bitch like her, anyway?_

Just that she wasn't a righteous little bitch, was she? Alright, she _was_ righteous, and honourable, and she sometimes drove him _mad_ with her attempt to always do the right thing, but she had a way of seeing the world that actually wasn't so different from his own, and that was most certainly not as pathetic as the paladin's or that of her precious little _knight friend_.

Still, he should have known better than to expect her to… what? Forgive him that he had done the right thing? Acknowledge that he had risked his own life to save hers, so that she could stop acting the bitch and become a little more sociable?

He snorted, disgusted with his own stupidity. He should just grab his things and go, that was the only smart thing left to do. Why not let her see first-hand if she was truly so much better off without him?

_That was an excellent shot._

He cast Keri's sleeping form a surly look, feeling the surprisingly strong desire to grip her hard by the shoulders and shake her violently, just to vent some of his frustration. Why did she have to say these words to him again, bringing back the memories to his already troubled mind, making it even harder to let go?

They had made camp somewhere in the Fire Mountains, preparing to confront the giants, as Keri had sat down beside him, watching him silently while he had maintained his gear. He had deliberately kept his eyes on his bow, but had been very well aware of the fact that she had sat so close that her knees had brushed lightly against his while she had studied his face, and so he had eventually leaned back and curled his lips into one of his sly smiles, his voice set in its usual mocking, light tone.

"And what does the great Captain of Crossroad Keep want with her humble tracker? Some giant you want hunted down, _my lady_, or just another forsaken path scouted?"

She had actually smiled at his words, and he had done his best to ignore the strange feeling emanating from his chest as she did so, putting down the bow beside him to hide his sudden discomfort. When his gaze had finally returned to her, she had still been looking at him, her expression calm and considerate, but her blue eyes had been sparkling with laughter as she had answered him in her quiet voice.

"Do you know anything about fighting dragons?"

He had studied her attentively, surprised by the seriousness he had suddenly seen in her eyes, and all thoughts about teasing her further just to see her smile again had been momentarily forgotten as he had cocked his eyebrows questioningly instead, his voice cool and more matter-of-factly as he spoke.

"I take it you're expecting trouble, then."

She had cast a quick glance around the camp, watching her companions as they went on with their preparations and quiet talks before she had faced him once more, and her voice had still been measured and calm besides the anxiety he had seen in her eyes.

"I just want to be prepared, should things go ill."

Well, Bishop hadn't blamed her for being cautious. None of them had expected to meet a red dragon in the mountains, after all, and he had to admit that it had even impressed him how she had negotiated with the vile creature, saving all their hides in a masterful display of diplomatic skill after they had stumbled into the dragon's lair completely unprepared because the blasted gnome had suddenly run off, babbling something about _wendersnavish energies emanating from the other side of the canyon._

_Worthless half-man._

"What about the others?"

Keri had shrugged, casting him a wry look out of the corner of her eye.

"Grobnar knows some stories, as does Khelgar. But their essence is that everyone in their right minds should avoid the conflict unless they have a party of dwarven dragonhunters by their side. Sand said that nobody told _him_ to expect a dragon attack so that he doesn't have all the spells prepared that he'd like for such a fight, but he will manage."

She had looked up into his eyes again, and a small smile had played on her lips as she continued.

"So this leaves you."

Bishop had shrugged as well, averting his eyes because the strange feeling in his chest seemed to intensify whenever he stared into her blue eyes for too long, and had caught the paladin watching them instead, a stony expression on his face.

_Well, now, look at this. Afraid that she'd go for a real man instead of a saint, are we?_

He had cast the man one of his wicked smiles and had moved even closer to Keri, pretending to stretch his legs and shoulders, and had felt a perverse pleasure at the sight of the paladin's thunderous expression.

"Can't say that I've fought a thing like that in the past, Captain, so I'm not sure if I can actually be of any help to you."

Keri had still looked at him, obviously unaware of the fact that he sat so close now that she could have leaned her head easily against his shoulder, and he had just been pondering whether he should brush a strand of her windswept hair out of her face to make the paladin grind his teeth even more when she had addressed him again, the solemn undertone of her voice actually startling him.

"Khelgar told me that in most of his clan's tales about dragon battles, it's said that their eyes are their most vulnerable spot."

For a long moment, he had just stared at her, wondering if he had understood her correctly. But seeing the seriousness in her eyes again, he had given the matter some thought, and his brows had furrowed in deep concentration as he had played the scenario through in his mind, finally phrasing his reply with care.

"I can do it. But I'll need a clear shot."

Keri had accepted his answer with a calm nod of her head. "Is there anything we can do to help you?", she had asked quietly, her breath caressing his cheek. He had leaned forward, catching her eyes with his sudden movement and locking his dark gaze with hers, wanting to make sure that she understood.

"From what I've heard, dragons tend to move a lot in battles, using their claws and tail along with their breath to kill their opponents. I need the dragon to focus on a single target, unmoving and long enough so that I can take aim."

She had returned his intense stare evenly, her face so close now that he could have counted the small freckles on her nose, and he had seen her go through the scenario in her mind as well to estimate their chances. The wind had freshened up, and he had just caught a whiff of her hair's sweet scent as she had stood rather abruptly, her expression resolute.

"You'll get your shot."

And so he had prepared himself, watching her closely while she had negotiated with the dragon for the second time right after they had successfully confronted the Giant King and his men, but this time, he had sensed a change in the lizard's demeanour. Obviously, the beast had been overwhelmed by greed at the first sight of the giant's treasure, and had therefore decided that it didn't want to be parted with the Belt of Ironfist anymore.

Bishop remembered Keridwen turning around for a split second, casting him a meaningful glance over her shoulder, and he had inclined his head almost imperceptibly to signal her that he had understood.

_I'm ready._

She had faced the dragon again, her voice strong and resolute, and there had been a sharp undertone to her words that he hadn't expected but that had thrilled him nonetheless. "I am sorry, Tholapsyx, but I fear that we cannot allow you to keep the Belt. Too many lifes depend on it."

The lizard had actually laughed, a sound that Bishop had added to the growing list of things that he never wanted to experience in his life ever again, and had leaned closer, its scaly head towering high above Keri and glaring at her with its red eyes that shone brightly with amusement.

_"Ooooh, but what about **your** lifes, little human?"_

Keri had simply stared up at the dragon, and Bishop had seen how her muscles had tensed in steely resolve as her hand had closed firmly around Shiranui's hilt, and her eyes had shone like frozen sapphires as she had addressed the dragon one last time.

"Why don't you come and find out?"

And with these words, all hell had broken loose. He had watched how Keridwen had done her best to lure the dragon into their trap, and he had to admit that he had broken into cold sweat every time Keri barely escaped the swift attacks of the lizard's sharp teeth and deadly claws, leading the beast slowly in his direction.

Time had seemed to stretch like an eternity while he had waited, grinding his teeth in frustration because the angle was never good enough to risk a shot, and a part of him had been afraid that he would never get a chance to loose his arrow as the dragon had suddenly made a surprising move with its tail, knocking the unsuspecting dwarf off his feet, and had then aimed for Keri. She had sensed the attack and had rolled swiftly to her left, easily avoiding the horn-studded tip, and as the lizard had turned its head to go after her, the angle had finally been perfect.

"_Hold!_"

She had heard his urgent call, and after evading another strike from a dragon claw she had simply stood her ground, facing the beast, her expression calm and composed. The lizard had seen its chance to finish its opponent once and for all, and so it had drawn back its head, opened its maw, and a cascade of hot, searing fire had shot from its pharynx, engulfing Keri's small form in a wall of flames.

"_Keridwen!_"

The paladin's voice had echoed over the plateau, his normally deep tenor shrill with fear, but Bishop had shut it all out- the sight of the searing flames that seemed to lick at Keri's dark hair, the heat from the dragon's breath sucking the sweat from his skin even across the distance- all that had mattered to him right then had been the fiery red dragon's eyes, alight with malice, and after another long moment, he had finally let go.

The arrow had soared high through the air, and Bishop had held his breath as he had watched its flight across the plateau, and he remembered how the ice crystals of its enchantment had reflected the sun in an icy, blue halo before the arrow had embedded itself deep within the dragon's left eyehole.

The lizard had screamed, a deafening sound full of pain and fear, and had collapsed on the ground, moaning and writhing in agony. With another roaring battlecry, the dwarf had suddenly jumped from the shadows at its feet and right onto the huge dragon skull, raising his axe high into the sky, and after the loud, cracking sound of shattering bone, the beast had made its last, shuddering move and had lain still.

Bishop could still remember how relieved he had felt at the sight of Keridwen sheathing her sword, unharmed although the ground at her feet had been blackened and smouldered from the intense heat, and how the aura of the elf's elemental protection spell had still flickered around her, distorting her shape. Then the paladin had been by her side, his brows furrowed with deep concern, and she had nodded at his urgent request, casting the man a small smile as she had looked up into his face, and he remembered how he had ground his teeth at the sight of the paladin's hands on her shoulders.

The man had turned his head as soon as Bishop had approached, his eyes murderous, but he had kept his mouth shut, obviously unwilling to confront the ranger while Keridwen was around. The others had started to close in around her as well, and after a quick glance to make sure that noone was seriously hurt, Keri had inclined her head at the wizard, the smile still on her lips.

"Thanks for your protection."

Sand had chuckled, but Bishop had seen the elf's eyes flicker from the paladin's face to his own and then back to Keri as he replied, and he had to admit that he hadn't liked the knowing smile that had suddenly appeared on the wizard's pale face.

"My dear girl, you're always welcome to make use of my expertise. But may I suggest that maybe next time, we can make sure of such potential dangers _before _we storm off and right into the middle of mortal peril?"

The others had immediately started bickering at the elf's sarcastic reply, and he had used the chance to approach her while everyone else was still occupied, his voice deliberately mocking and light.

"Looks like you've gotten a little crispy around the edges, Captain."

She had cast him an amused glance. "Maybe, but I'm fine." Keri had paused for a moment, and then had given him one of these rare, carefree smiles that always seemed to make his heart skip a beat or two, although he did his best to keep up his mask of cool indifference.

"That was an excellent shot."

He had huffed in played exasperation, casting her one of his cocky and most arrogant smiles while his eyes had glittered mischievously.

"What, did you expect anything else?"

She had shaken her head, still smiling, and her voice had been light as she had replied.

"The truth? No. Not at all."

She had then made her way over the plateau to the side where the tiefling had started to attend Khelgar's wounds, and he remembered how his eyes had followed her as she had joined her friends, and how the strange feeling in his heart had become even stronger while he had watched her graceful moves and recalled the smile on her face, the memory of her hot breath on his cheek still very vivid in his mind.

Had this been the point where things had started to go ill, where he had finally forgotten that he was supposed to stay because of his debt, and not because of the woman? There had been nothing cold about her then, no saddened look in her eyes whenever she looked at him, no disappointment hidden in her quiet voice, and he had soon found out why.

They had made their way back to the Ironfist stronghold, delivering the good news of the giants' death along with the Belt, and the dwarves had stayed true to their word and therefore decided to join forces with Neverwinter, sealing the new alliance with a grand celebration. Feeling restless, Bishop had left the Great Hall at one point to walk the deserted corridors of the stronghold, lost in his thoughts, and so it actually had been nothing but coincidence that he had stumbled across Keri and the paladin as he had finally made his way back to their rooms, hiding in the shadows to spy on their conversation.

He remembered how Keridwen had sat on the stone enclosure of a well, not dressed in her usual scale armour but in a loose tunic and leather breeches, and had calmly watched the man prowling before her, her expression attentive and understanding.

"Please, my lady, why did you have to take such a risk? The chance for a shot like that to be successful must be slim even at the best of times, and the risk was simply unpredictable. You could have died."

Bishop had curled his lips silently into a snarl, his blood pounding strongly in his veins at the paladin's pathetic whining. How _dare_ the filthy hypocrite stand there in the hallway and question his judgement, and then even in front of _her_? Keridwen had simply looked up at the man, and although her voice had sounded quiet and gentle as ever, there had been a glint of finality in her eyes that had left no room for further discussions.

"Casavir, I have faith in Bishop's opinion. He knows what he can do. He told me that all he needed was a clear shot, and that was good enough for me. It was a chance."

The paladin had watched Keri with a pained expression on his face, obviously not sharing her trust in Bishop's ability to estimate his skills, and he had almost pleaded with her as he spoke.

"But my lady, why didn't you let me take the risk, then, if it was truly our best chance to prevail?"

Keri had actually smiled at her companion (although, in Bishop's opinion, she should have given him a good, hearty slap for treating her like a weakling _again_, and even after she had shown that she had been more than capable to handle the lizard), but the line of her jaw had been set in fierce determination as she replied. "I am the leader, Casavir. The risk was mine to take. And besides, as long as you're wearing this…", here she had knocked playfully with a knuckle on the paladin's ornate breastplate, "…you're simply not fast enough to evade a frontal dragon attack."

The paladin had returned her smile at the gesture, and Bishop had felt the surprisingly strong desire to knock the idiotic grin from the man's face as he had finally retreated farther into the shadows, leaving the two alone at the well, his mind racing.

As things had slowly started to change from bad to worse and had gotten a little too rough for his taste, with all the Reaver attacks and End-of-the-World scenario's that were going on, her words had finally begun to haunt him in his sleep. He usually didn't care what people thought about him, whether they had faith in him or not. He was his own man, after all, and anyone who gave away their trust too easily actually deserved to be betrayed in his opinion. Why had it been so difficult then to just pack his things and go, to leave her behind? What was it about her that had made him stay after each dangerous task, even though his good sense had told him time and again to grab his weapons and save his own hide while he still could?

And he was _still_ here, was he not? Looking out for her, guarding her, although she had said repeatedly that she didn't want to be saved, and even after she had so bluntly refused his offer to guide her out of this misery, making him still feel like a fool to have approached her at all. Maybe it _was_ about time for him to end this, to take his things and just go. They were more than even now, and she certainly had no faith in him anymore, her expression had made that clear enough. So why not take his leave in the morning so that he would never have to look into her saddened eyes again, freeing himself from all these strange, contradicting emotions that always stirred in his heart when he was near her?

The wind that had been constantly tugging at his cloak and which had made the leaves rustle in the trees above all night suddenly ebbed away, only to leave a silence in its wake that was more than a little disturbing, and Bishop could feel the hairs on his neck stand up as he listened intently, the sudden stillness of the woods actually startling him.

Trusting his instincts, he reached for his blades while his sharp eyes scanned the dark woods around them for any signs of an intruder, his senses now alert and taut like a bow-string. The cool air became somewhat chilly, and for a moment, he could clearly see the cloud of his breath in the light of the flickering flames before the fire suddenly withered away and died, leaving him in the violet half-dark under the trees.

The cold seemed to close in around him, as if it were the wood's breath itself that hovered between the trees and rose from the ground at his feet to crawl over his skin like a many-legged insect, always probing and searching. There was something terribly familiar in the way the cold seemed to suck his strength away along with his body heat, and he was already on his feet and halfway around the fire as his cry of warning echoed loudly through the night.

"_Captain, watch out!_"

There was a sudden movement in the dark place where the fire once had been, and under his unbelieving stare, a cloud of thick, black, wavering mist rose from the ground and descended upon the woman that was still sleeping beside it, completely unaware of the danger that surrounded them.

He moved without thinking. Before he was even aware of it, he had already sheathed his swords and was kneeling beside her, reaching for her shoulders to pull her out of the shadow's reach, and he could already feel the fingers of his right hand close around Keri's forearm as a single veil of blackened mist reached out and touched his hand.

The feeling of insects crawling over his skin seemed to intensify momentarily under the veil's ethereal touch, chilling him to the bone as the shadow slowly drained all heat from his hand, but he just ground his teeth and ignored the stinging pain as best as he could, reaching for Keri's other shoulder instead and pulling her sharply towards him.

The shadowy mist had already covered her up to her hips before he had been able to drag her a few feet away, and so Bishop was kind of thankful that she was still wrapped up tightly in his bedroll, which should have presented at least some kind of protection against the draining touch of the shadow. But as he looked down at the woman who was now cradled in his arms, still sound asleep, he felt a different kind of chill running down his spine, and worry began to creep into his heart. Why wouldn't she wake up?

"Captain." He shook her roughly, his voice urgent, but her eyes, which normally used to open by the slightest touch of a hand against her shoulder, remained firmly closed, her breathing slow and even. Bishop looked up, alarmed, and saw the shadowy mist slowly make its way over the clearing, following them. The first veils of mist were already circling her ankles again, and he felt the beat of his heart quickening as he retreated a little further, his worry intensifying. They were loosing time!

"_Captain!_" There was something terribly wrong in the way Keridwen didn't respond to his call, her pale face looking almost ashen in the light of the violet moon, and he shook her again, this time hard enough to make her head shake heavily from side to side, and his voice rose to a loud shout while his hands clawed into her shoulders.

"By the gods, woman, _wake up_!"

She lay still in his arms, neither reacting to his call nor his bruising touch, and a first wave of panic welled up in his heart as he reached for her neck and felt how cold she was, her pulse barely palpable. The veils of mist were still following them, slowly but inexorable, and Bishop knew that their time was running short. He rose quickly to his feet, Keri still in his arms and firmly pressed against his chest, and his heart beat like a drum as he fled into the night, down the game trail and back into the woods, searching his way from one moonlit spot to another to bring some distance between them and their sinister pursuer.

For a long moment, the shadowy mist simply whirled over the now abandoned clearing, lingering on the spot where its prey had been standing only a few heartbeats ago. Then a shudder went through the floating veils, and the mist moved on and into the woods, a spectral shadow searching its way quietly between the trees before it finally disappeared into the dark, continuing its hunt.

*****


	10. Chapter 9

**Under a Violet Moon**

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form._

_Author's Note: And here comes another chapter, to make up for my long absense and to shed some lights on what happened to Keri. __And once more, I'd like to thank all of you who left a comment or added this story to their favs or story/author alert – I could never do this without your support!_

_**Llandaryn:** I'm glad that you enjoyed the dragon flashback and that it could add more layers to Bishop's and Keri's relationship. I know that Keri is no way near as troubled as your leading lady, so I'm glad that you like her as a protagonist nonetheless. :)_

_**Kalyane:** Don't worry, dear - your English is much better than you think. ;) I'm happy that I could brighten your day and that you keep reading this story although I have been away for a while. I really like your fire-and-ice analogy - it shows how different Bishop and Keridwen actually are, but that they complement each other nonetheless. I'm sorry if reading their struggles frustrates you, but we are talking about Bishop here - if things got well while he is involved, I'd be doing something wrong. But don't worry - this story isn't over yet, so we'll see. ;P_

_**vivienl:** Thank you for your review - I'm happy to hear that you liked my wording and the ever changing relationship between Bishop and Keridwen. I'll do my best to keep their story interesting. ;)_

_**jeandark:** I'm glad that you enjoy this story so far - and see, I updated! No need to go mad... yet. ;P _

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**9**

_She walked the battlements of the Keep, lost in her thoughts, and watched how Selune made her slow way across the sky. The moon stood still low over the horizon, a shining orb that rose between the distant summits of the Sword Mountains, and Keridwen felt strangely content just to watch the woods and fields surrounding her being illuminated by its bright, white light while the wind tousled her hair, bringing with it the sweet smell of flowers and freshly mown grass._

_There was the faint sound of footsteps approaching, and she tensed almost imperceptibly as she recognised his stride. He sauntered closer, and the fact that she could hear him at all told her more about the reason why he was here than words could ever do. She knew that he only allowed her to hear his footsteps that clearly when he wanted her to notice his presence, and so she kept her eyes deliberately fixed on the horizon, unwilling to give in to one of his little games so easily._

_He stopped right behind her, the warmth of his body slowly spreading across her back, and Keridwen shivered as she felt his hot breath caressing the sensitive skin of her neck. So they stood for a while in silence, their eyes staring out over the fields and onto the woods, and the beat of her heart quickened ever so slightly as she felt the slight pressure of his weight against hers, urging her to say something, _anything_, just to distract her from his closeness and the strange uneasiness it was causing her._

_"There's death in the air tonight."_

_These words were the first that came to her mind, and Keridwen frowned as they seemed to stir a memory. Had there been another time and another place where she had said these words before? She heard him chuckle, his breath on her neck making her skin tingle, and she felt her own breathing quicken as he leaned even closer to murmur quietly into her ear._

_"There's always death in the air, Captain. The question should be who's going to die tonight, don't you think?"_

_Keridwen briefly closed her eyes in an attempt to regain her composure. She knew he was just playing games with her, always mocking, always teasing and trying to goad a reaction out of her, and so she did her best to keep her voice calm and steady as she replied, determined not to show him that he was actually affecting her with his feeble tricks. The murmur of his voice seemed to stir something deep within her, and it confused Keridwen that his sudden closeness had such an effect on her._

_"The moon is shining brightly. There's still hope."_

_She felt him shrug, his mouth still so distractingly close to her ear, and his voice was mockingly light as he spoke._

_"Maybe. But there are things you can change, Captain, and others you cannot. Even _you_ cannot hope to survive, should you decide to challenge the storm that's coming."_

_She frowned as she looked at the peaceful scenery around her, not sure what he was trying to tell her._

_"A storm is coming?"_

_He chuckled again, and his voice was full of mock severity as he spoke._

_"What, something the great Knight-Captain failed to notice in her hurry to get away from it all? The noose's finally tightening around your neck, woman, so maybe you should take me up on my offer after all."_

_He leaned even closer until his mouth brushed teasingly against her ear, sending another wave of shivers down her spine, and his next words were spoken with such a low purr that it made her breath catch in her throat. His voice was full of promise as he whispered urgently into her ear, and Keridwen shivered despite herself as a strange warmth spread through her body, startling her._

_"Just you and me, Keri, that's what I'm saying. I can guide the two of us out of here, away from these shadows, from everything. All you need to do is ask."_

_His mouth wandered from her ear to her neck, and she shuddered as she felt his lips on her skin, caressing her, and her throat became terribly dry all of a sudden. For a fleeting moment, she almost leaned into his touch as the warmth inside her seemed to increase a thousandfold, urging her to let go, to give in, but Keridwen forced her breathing to remain steady even as he pressed himself against her, trapping her effectively between his body and the walls of the battlement. She was the Captain, after all. She _needed_ to remain focused._

_"I… told you before, I cannot leave. Not before dawn."_

_Her voice stayed calm and measured, just as she had intended, but there was a sudden husky undertone to it that she couldn't hide, and Keridwen shivered as she felt his lips curl into a slight smile at the sound of her voice, knowing that he, too, had heard what she had never meant to reveal. His mouth caressed the delicate skin of her neck one last time before he finally made a step back, and as she heard his voice again, he seemed to have retreated even further because it sounded strangely distant all of a sudden, as if the words reached her from afar._

_"I'm sorry, Captain, but I fear I cannot wait that long. The storm's coming."_

_There was a rumble in the distance, deep and foreboding like thunder, and Keridwen's eyes widened as she turned to the South and saw dark clouds rising from the Mere, storming towards the Keep. All of a sudden, the former bright light of the moon became an eerie, purplish glow, and a feeling of foreboding settled in Keridwen's stomach as she watched the clouds coming closer and closer to the Keep, a dark maelstrom of fury, and the smell of flowers and mown grass was suddenly replaced by a stink of rot and decay so intense that it made her want to gag._

_"Bishop?"_

_She turned around, the feeling of foreboding intensifying, and her heart almost stopped in fright as she stared into Kana's destroyed face. The hollow cheeks of her former second-in-command looked almost waxen in the purple gloom and were now covered with blood, and the last remaining eye shone still brightly with that disturbing, feverish light, luring Keridwen into their shadowy depths once more. Kana's mouth opened, and the words came out in the same rasping, emotionless voice that sent shivers of dread running down Keridwen's spine, awakening a surprisingly strong desire to turn around and run._

_"You should have never come back here, Captain."_

_Keridwen sensed her sudden movement and tried to duck away in time, but Kana moved with unnatural speed. Snake-like, she wound her way around Keridwen's defenses and hit her hard against the chest, pushing her forcefully backwards against the battlements. Keridwen tried to regain her balance, but the ground at her feet became strangely slippery all of a sudden, and before she could stop herself, her momentum had carried her over the stone wall and right into thin air, with nothing between her and the ground._

_For the length of a heartbeat, she just seemed to float high in the air, her eyes fixed on Kana who still stood behind the battlements and watched her with that terribly empty expression on her face, the storm clouds darkening the sky behind her. Then she fell, and Keridwen closed her eyes, awaiting the pain of the impact that would most likely end her life- but it never came. Keridwen opened her eyes again, puzzled, and her heart beat even faster as she took in the scenery around her, her eyes widening in disbelief while the feeling of foreboding returned abruptly and with full force._

_Darkness surrounded her. Not the almost cosy, well-known gloom of a moonless night, but such a complete pitch-blackened darkness that could only exist through the complete absence of light, and for a moment, Keridwen truly feared that she had become blind. There were things moving in the dark around her, loosely human-shaped creatures that seemed to be woven of the darkest of shadows, their eyes blazing red, and whenever one of them came near her, Keridwen could feel the icy cold that emanated from its ethereal form, chilling her to the bone._

What is this place?

_There was no ground, no horizon which would have helped her in her attempt to regain some kind of orientation, and so she could do nothing but drift through the darkness, along with the shadows, and the intense cold around her slowly crept into her limbs, not only draining her of the warmth of her body but seeming to take away some of her strength as well._

_All of a sudden, a burning cold spread through her upper arm, and Keridwen looked down, alarmed, only to see that one of the shadows had come close enough to reach for her, his shadow claws now closing tightly around her, his eyes glittering maliciously. Other hands reached out for her as well, and she felt a first wave of panic well up inside her as more and more hands wound around her arms and legs, slowly draining her strength away. Keridwen struggled to break free, but the shadows only tightened their vice-like grip around her, obviously unwilling to let her go._

_There were voices whispering in her head now, the nature of their thoughts so alien that it hurt just to listen to their quiet murmurs. The voices were full of promise about the wonderful places they could show to her if she only gave up her resistance, but Keridwen kept fighting. Behind those silken words, she could feel a deep hatred for all those who lived, paired with a greedy hunger for such life, _her_ life, and so she increased her struggling, determined to break their hold on her._

_Strangely enough, the intense pain of their shadowtouch seemed to help her clear her mind, and so she actually embraced the pain, focussing on the way how the cold made her limbs burn and freeze at the same time, and from one moment to another, the voices were gone, and Keridwen felt the strange sensation of being at two places at once._

_But how could that be, if this was nothing but a dream?_

_There was a sudden pull going through her, as if someone had caught her soul with a hook, and Keridwen was forcefully dragged away from the shadows in an instant, rushing through the darkness around her at remarkable speed. There was a sudden explosion of light, and Keridwen had to close her eyes against the searing pain that threatened to pierce her skull. When her eyes had gotten used to the light again, she blinked carefully, filled by an almost desperate desire to understand what was going on, but it took her a while to make sense of the images that now flooded her mind._

_She was still moving through the air with unimaginable speed, but the landscape beneath her was surprisingly familiar. The Mere stretched out below her, with its vast ponds of water, circled by reed, weeping willow and swamp grass, and the unsuspected and yet so familiar sight made her heart ache longingly all of a sudden. Keridwen could see the violet moon high in the sky above her, illuminating the world from behind its curtain of dark clouds, but its purplish light gave the scenery around her an eerie, almost menacing look, and the vague feeling of uneasiness began to form a tight knot in her belly._

_Keridwen tried to slow her flight through the sky, but whatever it was that had dragged her away from the shadowy place and now carried her further through the air held her in an iron grip, and just like a leaf in the rapids, she could do nothing but follow its lead. Strangely enough, Keridwen could still feel another part of her lying beside the camp fire, wrapped up in Bishop's bedroll, and the sensation of being at two places at once was almost as disturbing as the draining touch of the shadows that she had felt before._

What is happening to me?

_As far as she could tell in this dreamlandscape, she was heading South, deeper and deeper into the Mere, and the closer she came to its heart, the thicker and darker the clouds around her seemed to become, all whirling around a central spot in the distance, and the knot in her belly became almost painful as she realised that the invisible force dragged her right in its direction._

_There were signs of civilization hidden under the marsh, pieces of masonry that loomed above the water, the single ashlars clearly wheathered by time and constant exposure to the elements, along with the remnants of cobble-stone pavement and half-sunken buildings, but Keridwen was still soaring so fast through the air that it took her a while to realise that she had to be flying above the ruins of an ancient city, claimed by the rising tides of the Mere long ago, and the feeling of foreboding intensified as she finally recalled who its founders must have been._

The Illefarn.

_Could this actually be the Vale of Merdelain__? A shadow rose in the distance, its shape strangely distorted by the storming clouds that surrounded it, and shivers of dread began to run down her spine as she came nearer and nearer to her destination. Keridwen took a deep breath to calm her rising fear, and the knowledge that she was still lying safely beside her camp fire was a balm to her weary self. This was nothing but a dream, it had to be. But it was hard to take a look at the heart of shadow and not feeling intimidated by its raw, destructive power._

_Now that she was nearer, she could finally make out the broken shell of what had once been a large, circular building, rising in the centre of the city, and even in its dilapidated state, the otherworldly beauty of the place was unmistakable. The invisible force dragged her inexorably further, and for a fleeting moment, Keridwen looked up as she entered the circle of clouds and saw the moon standing at the zenith, glaring at her like an angry, purple eye, but before she could cast it as much as a glance, she had been hauled further and into the crumbling ruins, right into the stronghold of shadow._

_The scenery changed again. She was floating through dimly lit corridors now, all coated with blue-grey stone and decorated with the filigree stone carvings that she had seen in other Illefarn ruins before, and the walls were lined by large crystal lamps which cast a faint, blueish light, covering the narrow hallways in shadow._

_There were figures moving in the halfdark around her. Keridwen could hear their whispers as she past them by, too quietly for her to understand the words, but the gleeful anticipation in their voices was unmistakable. A change was coming, the tension that was so clearly tangible in the air around her reminding her strongly of the quiet before the storm, and Keridwen feared what that could mean for her._

This is a dream, remember? Nothing of this is real.

_But strangely enough, the thought did nothing to calm her racing heart as she was led deeper and deeper into the catacombs. Keridwen followed the numerous windings of the corridors, passing through a masterfully crafted archway and then descended a long pair of stairs down into the dark. There was a light at the end of the stairs, and as she neared its landing, Keridwen could hear voices echoing through the high tunnel, a strange singing and chanting that sounded vaguely familiar, and an icy feeling of foreboding settled in her stomach as she finally recognised the rhythm of a magical incantation._

_She burst into a great hall. Numerous statues rimmed the vast, circular room, all showing the image of a woman, her face a frozen mask of beauty and peace. The statues seemed to hold out their hands to the observer, as if they carried something of great value in their palms, and the icy feeling of foreboding increased a thousandfold as Keridwen recognised the image of the Statues of Purification. The room was lit by large crystals that rose from the ground, and after her hurried journey through the dimly lit tunnels, Keridwen had to close her eyes for a moment against their brilliant bluewhite light._

_Her flight stopped as abruptly as it had started. One moment, she was still soaring through the air and into the great hall, the next one, she felt an invisible hand pressing her forcefully towards the ground, and Keridwen saw that she was standing close to the entrance now, amidst a circle of runes. The runes were obviously drawn with great skill and care, and the feeling of foreboding increased even further as she recognised the now familiar pattern of a summoning circle. What was the meaning of this?_

_Small crystal lamps lined the circle of runes, their shape somewhat familiar, but before she could recall where she had seen such things before, Keridwen watched in alarm as one lamp after another suddenly came to life and started to emanate a cool, blue light. A strange sensation went through her body, as if someone was scraping her back with a sharp knife, and in an instant, the feeling of being at two places at once was gone, and Keridwen felt strangely naked all of a sudden. Her heart raced frantically in her chest, and she briefly closed her eyes, trying to calm her tense nerves and raging pulse to regain a feel for her body, still lying beside the campfire... but couldn't._

_The incantation ended, and the invisible hold which had controlled all of her former actions diminished, leaving her free and in control of her motions once more, and as soon as Keridwen felt its grip around her loosening, she lunged forward, trying to leave the circle. It felt as if she had walked right against a wall. Keridwen reached out with one probing hand and was shocked to see that her whole body seemed to have become transparent all of a sudden, its lines now rimmed by an ethereal, white glow, and fear started to gnaw at her heart, although she did her best to stay calm and composed._

_She had been sleeping. It had to be a dream._

_But what if it was not?_

_Carefully, she reached with her hand towards the circle, but as soon as her ethereal hand came within range of the crystal lamps, she felt the air around her thicken until it became a solid wall she could not penetrate. She was trapped within their cool, blue light, and suddenly, Sand's voice came to her mind along with the memory of one of their quiet conversations, held within the ghostly halls of another Illefarn ruin._

_"I've spoken with Balaur the Lore Keeper at great length. He calls these lamps 'ghost lights', and as long as they're lit, none of the spirits within these walls will be able to reach the sacred tree in the upper hall to perform the ritual."_

_She had frowned at the mage and then had cast a sharp glance at the crystal lamps lining the walls of the various corridors, emanating the same cool, blue light._

_"Did Balaur tell you how one could extinguish these lamps?", Keridwen had asked in her quiet voice, and her eyes had wandered to Khelgar and Casavir for a moment who were standing guard at a crossroad nearby, scanning the halfdark around them for more undead company. She had heard Sand's amused chuckle beside her, and had turned to see him cast her one of his bemused smiles, his eyebrows raised in mock superiority._

_"Oh yes, he did indeed." And with these words, the elf had simply reached out a hand, and under his touch, the light of the lamp had immediately gone out. Keridwen had raised her eyebrows questioningly, and Sand had smiled again, obviously enjoying himself._

_"Impressive, don't you think? The touch of the living is enough to lighten or darken the lamps. Balaur said that these lamps had once served a different purpose, but now they've become the wards that keep the spirits trapped within these walls."_

_Another chuckle echoed through the vast hall, and Keridwen looked up, alarmed, to see a Reaver standing in front of the summoning circle, a dangerous light glittering in the empty eyeholes of its skull, and another shiver ran down her spine as she recognised the voice._

Garius!

_There were others with him, three of his Reaver brethren and another figure, smaller and slender and dressed in a thick, hooded cloak as if it tried to shield itself against the cold around her, all of them watching her with interest. Garius moved closer, and Keridwen could feel the cold intensity of his dark, eyeless stare as he approached, and his voice was full of mock severity as he spoke._

_"Look, my brothers. At least one of our guests has finally arrived."_

_He inclined his head, and the satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable._

_"Welcome, Knight-Captain. You should feel honoured, as you will be one of the few who are allowed to witness the return of the King of Shadows to the Material Plane."_

_He made an inviting gesture with his skeletal hand, and Keridwen's eyes widened in disbelief and fear as they finally fell upon the centre of the great hall. Within another circle of runes wavered a cloud of thick, blackened mist, and the otherworldly presence that she had felt in the Mere and the Keep resonated strongly within its swirling, layered veils. The mist pulsated slowly, seemingly growing with each pulse that went through the cloud like a heartbeat while it grew darker and darker, slowly absorbing the light._

_"What do you want from me, Garius?"_

_Although her heart was beating in her chest like a frightened bird, years and years of training helped Keridwen to keep her voice calm and measured as she spoke, and a part of her was pleased to see the Reaver's shoulders tense noticeably at her calm request. Garius kept his voice still deliberately light, but there was a sharp, annoyed note to it that he couldn't quite hide, and Keridwen knew her reserve had hit a soft spot._

_"Oh, but it is not what I__ want but what my _master_ wants that is of importance here, Captain. I am sure you recognised the lamps we have lit around your circle? The Illefarn created them long ago to focus the spiritual energy of the land, unaware of the fact that they had involuntarily created a tool that allowed them to trap a soul within their reach as well."_

_Keridwen kept her face calm and impassive, but her heart almost skipped a beat as the meaning of Garius gloats became all too clear. The shadowy place, the pain she had felt at the shadows freezing touch, the feeling of being at two places at once, her flight through the sky… it had been real._

This is no dream…

_Realisation hit her like a fist in the belly, and it cost Keridwen every ounce of strength and self-control that she had learned during her long years in the house of her masters to keep the sudden despair at bay, to steel her mind for what surely was about to come. More than her own life was at stake, and if she couldn't remain focused on the task ahead, all would be lost._

Focus, Keri. You're not lost as long as you can keep your thoughts together!

_"A soul?"_

_The Reaver chuckled at the sound of her voice and made another small gesture with his hand. His brethren nodded and turned around to walk across the great hall until they finally lined up around the second circle, and Garius half turned to watch their motions, his voice full of false pleasantry._

_"Oh yes, Captain. Fortunately, you were still within our reach after your… unexpected departure from the Keep."_

Bishop!

_Somewhere, her body still had to be wrapped up in his bedroll, and he was sitting beside her, keeping watch by their fire. Would he realise that something was wrong with her? Could he help her, if she found a way to reach out for him? The Reavers began another incantation, and as their voices started to echo from the walls of the vast hall, the runes around the dark mist began to glow with an eerie, purple light. Garius turned around to face her once more, and his voice was calm and triumphant as he spoke._

_"It won't be long now. Soon, the King of Shadow will end his exile on the Shadow Plane, and then you and all of your friends will learn what it means to stand against the power of Shadow." He cast another quick glance at his brethren, still lost in their incantation, and the smug superiority in his voice sent another shiver of foreboding down her spine. "If you'll excuse me, Captain, it seems as if the ritual will soon reach its climax, and my assistance will be needed."_

_He turned towards the hooded figure that still stood silently beside the summoning circle, and for a fleeting moment, Keridwen could see a glittering pair of eyes beneath the dark hood reflecting the light of the crystal lamps, watching her._

_"I'm leaving the Knight-Captain in your care, then."_

_The figure nodded, and Keridwen was surprised to hear that its voice was not like the deep rumble of the Reavers, but actually high and smooth, and the sound was terribly familiar as it spoke._

_"It will be my pleasure."_

_The voice belonged to a woman, somewhat arrogant and full of gleeful anticipation, and Keridwen felt her blood run cold as she instantaneously recognised the voice._

No. It _can't_ be. You're confusing things…

_Garius nodded, obviously pleased with the answer._

_"Good."_

_And with that, the Reaver turned around and walked swiftly through the great hall to join his brethren at the second circle, and Keridwen was left alone with her mysterious guard. The figure paced slowly around the circle, obviously taking a great pleasure in just watching Keridwen's trapped astral form within its magical prison, and Keridwen felt the sharp claws of despair tear at her heart as she steeled herself for the question that now had to be asked, although it seemed to burn her very soul._

_"Qara?", she whispered quietly, praying to whatever god who would hear her plea that she had been wrong. The figure stopped in its pacing, and two slender, gloved hands reached up to slowly withdraw the hood, revealing the oh-so familiar sight of short crimson hair and sparkling emerald eyes. A cruel smile played on Qara's lips as the girl watched the soul in front of her with barely concealed malicious joy, and her voice was terribly light as she spoke._

_"Hello, Keridwen. How was your little fun trip into the woods?"_

_For a long moment, Keridwen could do nothing but stare at her companion with wide eyes as horror and disbelief mingled strongly in her chest, numbing her feelings to a point where simple emotions such as fear or grief could not touch her anymore. Qara's face was deathly pale, but her eyes burned brightly with the same feverish light that had filled the eyes of the undead at the Keep, and it made Keridwen sick just to look at her companion. Qara seemed to have guessed her feelings, for her cruel smile widened noticeably as the girl slowly resumed her pacing, and her falsely sweet voice cut like knives through Keridwen's very being._

_"Surprised to see me here, Captain?"_

_Keridwen stared at the familiar young face before her, and although her heart ached painfully while her mind still refused to accept what she was seeing with her own eyes, Keridwen fought hard to keep focused on the here and now. Her enemies were counting on her despair and confusion, after all, and she would never give them the satisfaction of seeing her unbalanced._

_"A little."_

_Her voice was calm and measured with only the barest hint of a quiver, and Keridwen felt somewhat touched despite herself as she saw the smile on Qara's face actually wavering under her former leader's cool, controlled stare. There had to be an explanation for all this. Maybe the girl was just a prisoner of some sort, and they could make their way out of here together, if Keridwen found a way to free her self from the circle…_

_"Qara, please, come to your senses. I don't know what happened and how you ended up here, but this will be the death of you! Extinguish the lamps, and we can find a way out of this place!"_

_As soon as she heard Keridwen's calm plea, Qara's face distorted with disgust, and her voice sounded surprisingly hard and bitter as she replied._

_"Oh, please. You've _never_ bothered with me or my well-being before, so why start now?"_

_Keridwen felt her eyes widen in disbelief as a vague feeling of guilt and dread began to settle in her stomach. Did Qara truly believe what she had just said? Keridwen watched the girl's tense and hostile posture, and it grieved her to hear so much hurt and hatred hidden beneath those angry words, all directed at her._

This is getting strangely familiar…

_"You know this isn't the truth, Qara.", she replied, shaken._

_"Oh, really?" The girl's face was a cold, impassive mask, but her eyes burned with barely suppressed rage as she spoke. "You're just like Sand and the others, always lecturing me about my actions and telling me to restrain myself, while _I'm_ the one with the power, not you!"_

_Qara's eyes narrowed to slits as she watched Keridwen's astral form, who returned her stare in stunned silence, and the smug smile that suddenly appeared on the girl's face send more shivers of dread down Keridwen's spine._

_"It was almost worth to stick around just to see their faces as they suddenly realised that you had run away with your lover, and on the eve of battle, no less!"_

_Keridwen knew without doubt that none of her friends would ever believe for a second that she had left them to their fate willingly, that Qara was just trying to goad her with her mocking words, and so it truly startled her as she felt a hot wave of anger welling up inside her at the girl's haughty verbal barbs. Keridwen briefly closed her eyes in an attempt to reign in her sudden temper, knowing that she needed to remain calm to keep the upper hand. The girl loved to deride and toy with her opponents, after all, and the longer she could keep the girl talking, the more time she would have to find a way out of her prison._

_"Why are you here, Qara?"_

_The girl's smile widened at Keridwen's calmly spoken words, and her eyes sparkled maliciously as she replied in her falsely sweet voice._

_"Oh, you'd _die_ to know that, would you?"_

_She put the long fingers of her hands together and held them to her lips in a cruel immitation of Sand and pouted, the malicious gleam still in her eyes._

_"Actually, it was all Casavir's doing. Can you believe that he _ordered_ me to fight alongside him and the little knee-high on the battlements while the others just grouped around that hedgewizard in the library, trying to find you and the ranger with a scrying spell?"_

_Qara's shoulders tensed noticeably as she went on with her complaint, but Keridwen heard only half of what the girl was saying. As soon as Qara had started to warm up to her topic, she had directed her thoughts inward in an attempt to free her astral form by reaching out for her body once more, but no matter how hard she tried to recall the feeling of her own body lying beside the camp fire, she just couldn't. It had disappeared the moment the ghost lights had been lit around the summoning circle, and now, she was all on her own again. The thought did nothing to put her troubled mind at ease, and so it took her a while before she could force herself to focus on Qara and her ramblings once more._

_"You see, it was Garius who approached me on the battlements." A satisfied smile played on Qara's thin lips as she spoke, and her voice sounded strangely pleased as she went on. "He knew that I was the one with the true power and therefore offered me the opportunity to see my strength increased a thousandfold... and all I had to do was to help him break the resistance of your precious forces."_

_Keridwen stared at the young woman before her, and her eyes widened in shock and disbelief as she finally understood the meaning of her disturbingly cheerful words. "You sided with the enemy to fight against your own companions?"_

_Qara's mouth contorted as if she had suddenly bitten on something sour and vile, and her eyes were full of contempt as she replied._

_"Oh, _please_. They never cared about me, anyway. They were all too busy just dogging _your_ footsteps as that one of them would have ever tried to get to know me, as if you were someone _special_ who was actually worth all the attention. I would have loved to kill them myself, but the ceiling of the library collapsed before I actually got a chance to burn those self-righteous fools to ashes. And who are you to judge me, anyway, running away with that creep just to save your own neck?"_

_All of a sudden, the voices of the Reaver's echoed loudly from the walls, and Qara cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the second circle where Garius and his brethren were still performing their ritual, and Keridwen felt her heart clench painfully in her chest as her gaze fell upon the fast pulsating veils of mist once more. Qara turned around to face her former leader with a cruel and satisfied smile on her lips, and there was a light in her eyes that made the hairs on Keridwen's neck stand up._

_"It won't be long now. You see, Garius has shown me ways to exploit my potential, and when the King of Shadows returns, **he** will grant me even more knowledge about how to improve my skills."_

_Her face suddenly shone brightly with unmitigated greed and desire, and the feverish light in her emerald eyes seemed to increase a thousandfold as she went on, making her look like a madwoman all of a sudden._

_"My power will finally be unleashed, without restraint, without bounds. And it will consume _all_that have stood against me!"_

_Keridwen felt her heart ache with pity and regret as she watched the unmasked thirst for power and revenge distorting Qara's young face, and her voice was calm and saddened as she spoke._

_"But without restraint, without dedication, there can never be true power, Qara."_

_Qara's face contorted with disgust and anger at Keridwen's calm reply, and a dangerous gleam appeared in her eyes as the girl balled her hands into fists, her voice now barely more than an angry hiss._

_"Oh, is that so? I wonder how you intend to give me another one of your tiresome lectures, Captain- when you're _dead_!"_

_And with these words, the girl raised her hands, and a spear of dark energy shot through the air, directly aiming for Keridwen. There was a fleeting moment where she could see the spear soaring towards her, cracking all the stone slabs in its path and sending fragments of the crystal lamps flying everywhere before it finally hit her astral form squarely in the chest._

_It felt as if her soul had caught fire. The dark energy of Qara's spell seemed to consume her very being, and Keridwen screamed in agony as she felt her spiritual essence wavering. She desperately tried to hold on to her self, to keep the negative power at bay, but the pain was just too great. Keridwen felt her strength rapidly fading, and so she gathered her last reserves in a desperate attempt to free herself from the pain, to find some shelter for her wounded soul, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she felt herself lying on the ground again, with her eyes staring up at the grey sky. There was someone with her, a shadow that suddenly loomed above her and blocked the sky from view, but the moment passed, and then nothing remained but the great hall… and the pain._

_Qara was still standing in front of the circle and watched her dying struggles with an expression of perverse pleasure on her face. The whole hall seemed to vibrate all of a sudden, but Keridwen felt her focus already wavering as her last strength was finally burnt away under the essence-consuming power of the girl's spell. As darkness finally descended upon her, her vision cleared just long enough to see a shiver running through the veils at the centre of the great hall, and then a dark thing stepped through it. It was a shadow, but not like any shadow creature she had ever seen before. The monstrous creature almost reached the ceiling with its dark horns, and Keridwen could feel its otherwordly presence filling the very air and stone around her, drinking thirstily from the remaining powers of the Illefarn ruins to recover its strength, and that somewhat familiar feeling of its presence stirred a memory deep within her._

**He** has returned!

_Her self was already dispersing, but strangely enough that incoherent thought ignited within her an irresistable desire to keep up the fight. There were still things that needed to be done. She simply couldn't give up just yet!_

_The negative energy was constantly surging against her inner self, trying to consume her entirely but Keridwen curled up into a tight ball, using all that was left of her strength to shield the very core of her being from the devastating powers that surrounded her, but at a terrible cost. Unable to hold on any longer, Keridwen heard a soft sigh escape her lips as she finally gave in to the seductive call of the darkness that swirled around her, and the hall vanished before her eyes as she felt her self rapidly gliding away into nothingness._

_The time the Guardian opened its fiery eyes and moved away from the portal to touch Illefarn ground once more, she was already gone._

*****


	11. Chapter 10

**Under a Violet Moon**

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form._

_Author's Note: Work is keeping me insanely busy once again, but don't worry - this story is far from over, and I fully intend to finish it one day - and how could I _not_ want to finish it, with all the encouragement that I'm getting from my readers and reviewers to keep writing? You guys/gals rock, and I cannot even begin to tell you how grateful I am for your support. _

_**Lemonbreeze:** Thank you for your review - I'm happy that you like this story and can asure you that it won't be abandonned. It might take me some time to update sometimes, but I will eventually. ;)_

_**Gaspode:** Thank you - I'm glad that you like my writing and that you think of Keri as a both likeable and believable character. I love Bishop for his complexity and was outraged how he (and the other companions) were treated in MotB. But that's what stories are for, right? :D_

_As for the happy ending - usually I do prefer them, too, but I don't think that there has ever been a character who is less compatible with them than Bishop, so we will have to see. ;)_

_**vivienl:** Damn them indeed - unfortunately, right now they seem to have quite the advantage. Glad you liked all the suspense and foreshadowing! ;)_

_**Kalyane:** You're always welcome, dear - you know that! ;) Bishop and Keri are not having the best of times right now, true, but what happens once they meet again... you'll see. ;) _

**_jeandark:_**_ Thank you, dear - I don't think that there can be a greater compliment for a writer. I hope that you will keep enjoying the story, and never fear - it's not over yet! ;)_

_**Llandaryn:** Thanks, hon - I'm glad you enjoyed Keri's little trip to the Mere, and Qara. She always betrayed me in my playthroughs, and so I figured she would be a formidable new recruit for the Shadow army in my story. ;)_

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**10**

Dawn was coming.

He could sense it in the quiet of the woods and the dew that touched his face as he hastened through the undergrowth, his cheeks now showing small, bloody cuts where low-hanging branches had hit him in the face, but he kept going even as his arms finally started to ache under Keridwen's weight, intending to bring as much distance between himself and that thing as long as the moon was still shining through the leaves.

Which wouldn't be for too long, unfortunately.

The moon was already disappearing behind the clefted mountain rims, and Bishop knew that he and Keri had no more than the half of an hour before they would be left in the dark twilight under the trees, the shadow still close on their heels. Bishop scowled. He didn't need to be an archmage to venture a guess or two where that blackened mist had come from, let alone its intentions, and it troubled him.

He leaned against one of the trees for a moment, his chest heaving heavily after his long, exhausting run, and bent his head to examine the unconscious woman still cradled in his arms, his frown deepening as he lifted a hand to wipe some dark strands out of her face. Keridwen's cheeks were still deathly pale and her lips barely more than two thin, pallid lines, as if all blood had somehow drained from her face, and so he felt something close to relief as the warmth of her breath caressed the sensitive skin of his fingertips. At least, she was still alive.

_Might change if you just keep standing here, waiting for the grass to grow…_

He snarled, but tightened his grip around her nonetheless, trying to lift her into a more comfortable position as he continued his run through the woods. The strain in his arms seemed to increase with every single step he took, and Bishop frowned as he ducked under the low branches of a fir, casting Keri's sleeping form another glance out of the corner of his eye. He knew that it would be more efficient to carry her over his shoulder, giving the tense muscles in his arms some time to recover while still being able to move on, but he couldn't risk it. If they were lucky, the touch of the shadow had just cast some kind of sleeping spell on her and it would take nothing but some time before she finally returned to consciousness.

If they were not, the negative energy might have caused some serious inner wounds - and then carrying her on her stomach could prove desastrous.

Bishop managed to keep his pace up for a short while, just stopping briefly here and there in order to check on Keri's pulse and breathing, but as the moon finally sank behind the mountains, the ache in his arms started to creep slowly into his shoulders and upper back until he finally had to admit that he needed a break or risked being unable to defend himself, should that thing truly catch up on them in the dark. He whistled a sharp command, and after a few moments, Karnwyr appeared by his side, the wolf's fur damp with dew and his amber eyes shining brightly even in the dim light, watching the human before him attentively. Bishop kept his voice deliberately low as he spoke, unwilling to make more noise than actually necessary, but in the quiet hour before dawn his voice carried surprisingly far nonetheless.

"We need to rest. Keep your eyes open, and if anything's amiss give us a warning."

For a moment, the wolf simply stared up at his master, the look in his amber eyes unreadable. Then the wolf inclined his head almost imperceptibly and disappeared silently into the woods again, a dark shadow following them quietly through the trees, and Bishop found it quite consoling that no shadow would be able to sneak up on them through the woods without getting noticed by Karnwyr's sharp senses.

_Pity that the thing just doesn't seem to approach through the woods in the first place…_

Bishop scowled at the mocking voice in his head, trying his best to ignore the uneasy feeling that settled in his stomach as the memory of the mist returned, simply rising from the ground and descending upon Keridwen in a heartbeat. She had been lucky that he had been around, that much was certain. Who knew what would have happened to her if he hadn't been on his guard, having the presence of mind to pull her out of the shadow's reach and taking off with her before that thing had been able to finish what it had come for…

It chafed him, though, that he had been forced to leave his backpack behind, but time had been of the essence. Although the mist had moved slowly, Bishop could still vividly recall the burning pain in his hand where the veil had touched him, and he knew without doubt that that thing was both deadly and dangerous, and therefore not to be underestimated.

It would be best to find a new resting place where he could wait for the sun to rise in the East and for Keridwen to return to consciousness, and then they could make their way back to their camp together in broad daylight, where the advantage would be clearly on their side should the shadow decide to attack a second time.

He finally found a small clearing amidst the large firs where he could actually see the nightsky and lowered Keridwen carefully onto the thick carpet of fir-needles, still tightly wrapped up in his bedroll, and an unexpected thought entered his mind as he stretched his aching arms while watching her lying before him, still unconscious.

_Well, now, this looks strangely familiar._

The only difference was that this time, she hadn't been drugged with a heavily watered-down solution of the potion he sometimes used to poison his arrows, and although Bishop did his best to ignore the uneasy feeling that still settled in his stomach he had to admit that it troubled him that she didn't want to wake up. He kneeled beside her, putting his hands down on both sides of her head, and bent down until his mouth almost touched her ear.

"Captain."

He watched her closely for any reaction, but her face remained impassive and her eyes firmly closed, her breathing still shallow and barely palpable. The remnants of the fingershaped bruises stood out very clearly against the light skin of her neck, and he felt another surprisingly strong wave of anger well up inside him and mingling strongly with his uneasiness as he looked down into Keri's deathly pale face.

What if she just didn't wake up because that thing had cast a much more powerful spell on her than he had thought? He had no means to help her, and every tool that might have proven useful in a situation like this had been left behind in their camp, along with his backpack. Bishop growled in frustration as he stood up, both unsure what to do and hating this sudden feeling of indecision. Who would have thought that he would ever regret the absence of the wizard, or even that of the crazy warlock? There were many things one could say about Old Tattoo Face, and he had never trusted the man farther than he could have thrown him, but he had to admit that Jerro had known his trade. He would have to manage without them, though, that much was certain.

_Well, if she dies, you can at least say that you've tried more than she deserved to safe her. Who could expect more of you?_

His heart gave a sharp, unexpected pang at that thought and he turned around, casting a quick, searching look at the sky to distract himself from that unwelcome notion, and was quite pleased to see that it had gotten a slightly greyish colour in the meantime, even with the clouds that still darkened the sky. The sun would rise soon, and even with its distorted light it would present a kind of protection against the blackened mist. His eyes wandered back to Keridwen's sleeping form, and he felt something that tasted uncomfortably of worry stir in his heart as he watched her lying before him, so vulnerable in her current state.

This had always been her favourite time of day. It was quite unusual for a fighter to follow the ways of the Morninglord, but Keridwen had just shrugged and had given him one of her small smiles when he had brought up this topic in one of their nightwatch talks, completely unabashed by his caustic comments about people who actually relied on the aid of the gods, like the paladin. She had just looked at him, her eyes sparkling with good humour, and had answered him in her quiet voice that Lathander was actually quite fond of adventurers because he felt that they brought light to the dark places of the world, and that she thought that some prayers to the Morninglord couldn't hurt in their current situation, for they had seen some _very_ dark places in the past.

They had been sitting under the snow-covered trees of the Duskwood that day, trying to gather the evidence that Keridwen had needed to free herself from those Luskan accusations, and he had grinned even despite himself as he, too, had easily been able to recall all the vermin-infested caves, tunnels and other inhospitable holes they had visited in the short weeks that they had been travelling together. She had truly impressed him in those first weeks, and not only with her skill with the blade, but also with her quick wit and calm, determined attitude.

It had actually been quite fun to watch her in the trial, how her reserve and calmly presented arguments had slowly driven the Luskan ambassador towards insanity, and so he hadn't been too surprised as the bitch had suddenly called for her right of Trial by Combat in the end, catching at every straw she could reach to do Keridwen in. What _had_ surprised him, though, had been the fact that later that day, when Keri had already been sent to the Temple of Tyr to prepare for the ritual, he had heard from that worthless drunk of an uncle that she had chosen the dwarf to be her champion in the upcoming fight.

That had made no sense to him. He had seen that man, Lorne, standing beside the Luskan bitch in the court room and glaring daggers at Keridwen, and although Bishop had to admit that he was a brute of a man, the ranger had had not the slightest doubt that the man wouldn't last a second against Keridwen and her blade. So why had she chosen the dwarf to be her champion instead, and even in a fight that would decide whether she'd live or die?

Her decision had stirred his curiosity in such a way that he had actually sought her out late that evening, standing in the door of the temple room and watching her for a while, sitting in front of a Statue of Tyr, her face calm and composed while her hands had been folded in her lap, before he had finally adressed her.

"It's just a statue, you know."

She had turned her head at the sound of his voice to watch him calmly, her blue eyes reflecting the light of the various candles and lanterns, but whether she had been surprised to see him visiting her or not, he hadn't been able to tell. He had entered the room and closed the door, but had stayed near the entrance, casually leaning against the door frame and watching her face intently before he had continued.

"Tyr isn't watching this, but I do."

She had returned his stare evenly, and a small smile had flickered across her face as she had answered him in her calm, quiet voice.

"I don't know if that's actually a consoling thought or not, but thank you nonetheless."

He had scowled, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm not here to _console_ you. If you need to be consoled in an hour like this, you're actually weaker than I thought."

She had simply acknowledged his caustic reply with a nod of her head, her face impassive while she had watched him with that scrutinizing stare she could use so well, and her voice had still been calm and composed as she had addressed him for a second time, although he would have bet to have heard a hint of curiosity hidden in her softly spoken words.

"So why are you here then, Bishop?"

He had shrugged, finally moving away from the door and sitting down in front of her, leaning with his back against the wall while stretching his long legs, and his dark eyes had bored coolly into hers as he had made his reply, his voice a little less caustic this time.

"Just curious. Why did you chose the dwarf to fight in your stead? That Lorne's a big fellow, but he's no match for you. So why are you not fighting him?"

She had cast him an amused glance out of the corner of her eye while she had mimicked his stance, stretching her legs, and her voice had held a sudden hint of mirth that had actually caught him by surprise.

"And here I thought that you would congratulate me for my smart decision to avoid the risk of serious injuries, as long as somebody else was willing to risk his own health on my behalf."

He had shrugged once more, feeling the corners of his mouth actually twitching at this fine display of humour, but his gaze had lost none of its cool intensity as he had looked her straight in the eyes.

_Nice try, but if you really want to distract me from my question, girl, you'll have to work harder!_

"Fair enough. But you're a much better fighter than he is. If the dwarf looses that battle, you'll die. I've just been wondering why you're taking the risk."

Her face had stayed calm and composed, but he had noticed the way her shoulders had tensed almost imperceptibly in the dim light and how she had looked down at her entwined fingers all of a sudden, giving him the strange feeling that she was actually trying to avoid his eyes.

"Khelgar burst into the temple when I was talking to Brother Hlam this afternoon. He was furious about the Trial and the injustice of it all, and in the end, he outright demanded the right to be my champion."

A small smile had flickered across her face, her eyes sparkling at the memory even despite the tension that had been so evident in her jaw and shoulders.

"Brother Hlam was very pleased with the changes he had seen in Khelgar, and it seemed to matter so much to him, I just couldn't deny him. Besides, I have trust in Khelgar. He won't let me down."

She had looked up at him then, a surprisingly mocking smile on her face, and it had startled him as he had suddenly realised that the mockery had been directed at herself.

"That was almost convincing, wasn't it?", Keri had said calmly in a quiet, somewhat bitter voice, her blue eyes looking almost black in the dim light. "The noble leader, stepping back from a fight to help one of her companions to grow, to cause some serious changes in his life. It even fooled Casavir."

"So why have you chosen the dwarf as your champion, then, if you did not mean to be noble?", he had asked quietly. She had looked down at her hands again, and her answer had been so soft-spoken that he had barely been able to hear her words, although she had been sitting less than an arm's length away from him.

"I know the man. His full name's Lorne Starling. He's a Harborman."

His eyes had widened noticeably at this statement, and he had leaned his head back against the wall, exhaling softly as he had pondered that unexpected turn of events. They had been sitting in silence for a short while, each of them lost in their own thoughts and listening to the soft hissing of the candles before Bishop had finally spoken up again, his voice almost sympathetic- at least for his standards.

"Friend of yours?"

She had slowly shaken her head, her eyes still fixed on her long fingers laying in her lap.

"No, not really. But he's my best friend's eldest brother."

She had thrown up her arms with an exasperated huff, actually surprising him with that unfamiliar outburst of emotion, and frustration had been clearly edged in the sharp lines of her face as she had looked up at him once more, her voice suddenly sounding tired.

"I have been racking my brain all afternoon. I_ know_ I have to fight him, but even under these circumstances, how could I ever return to West Harbor and look Bevil and Retta in the eyes, with the blood of their son and brother on my hands? When Khelgar stormed into the temple and volunteered to be my champion, it appeared like a gift from the gods to me, and I accepted it gladly."

She had sighed, and her gaze had been almost frightening in its dark intensity.

"But now that I'm sitting here, all I can think about is what I would feel like if Khelgar actually got hurt on my behalf. Not very noble, isn't it?"

He had shrugged and stretched his shoulders, a mischievous gleam in his eyes and a teasing tone in his voice.

"Well, now, I think that being noble's actually overrated, anyway, but maybe that's just me."

She had actually smiled a little at his reply, and he had risen from the ground, intending to make his way back to the Flagon now that his curiosity had been sated. He had almost been out of the door and into the hallway when he had heard her soft voice from behind, calling out for him.

"Bishop."

He had stopped in his tracks and had turned around to see her still sitting there, her legs stretched and her blue eyes watching him intently, and a small smile had played on her lips as she had addressed him one last time.

"I know that's not exactly what you intended, but I do feel better now. Thank you."

He had cast her one of his sly smiles, and his eyes had glittered mischievously once again as he had answered her from his place in the half-dark of the hallway, leaning casually against the door frame.

"Well, you could always invite me on an ale or two to show your gratitude - if you survive."

She had smiled and shaken her head, obviously amused by his words, and after a last glance, he had simply turned around and had left her to her solitude, feeling strangely pleased with himself.

It felt like ages ago that they had had this conversation. Bishop frowned, trying to estimate the time that had passed since that day, and was somewhat startled to realise that it had been almost a year and a half since Keridwen's trial. No wonder it felt almost like a lifetime ago.

He kneeled down beside her once more, watching the pale face that he had come to know so well over these past months, with the strands of chestnut-coloured hair that always seemed to fall right into her eyes, and in a sudden impulse, he reached out to gently wipe the dark curls out of her face. Her skin was cool to his touch but surprisingly soft for a woman who spent most of her time on the battlefield these days, and he let his fingers trail lower, from her forehead over her cheeks and then down the curve of her neck to her breastbone, pleased to feel that her pulse had quickened and was more palpable than before. Maybe she _would_ awake, after all.

_Would be best if she didn't catch you with your hands in her tunic then, don't you think?_

There was some wisdom hidden in that thought, but he let his fingers wander over her skin nonetheless, back to her neck and then up to her delicate cheekbones, and it startled him as his fingertips actually started to prickle lightly under the touch, the beat of his heart quickening ever so slightly as he lowered his head a little to inhale the sweet scent of her hair, stirring the strange feeling within his chest almost immediately. She was not the first woman he had touched, after all. A handsome girl, for sure, but no otherworldly beauty. So why did she have such an effect on him?

He remembered the first time he had _truly_ touched her, on the eve after the Trial by Combat, and frowned. Maybe he should have known that she meant nothing but trouble after that day. Everyone had been so thrilled after Khelgar had defeated Lorne and had therefore proven Keridwen's innocence, and Duncan had organized a grand celebration for her in the Flagon, obviously over the moon with joy that his foster half-niece, or whatever their relationship might be, had lived to see the day.

Bishop had been sitting in his usual corner, a mug of ale in front of him, and had watched all the cheerful fools who had crowded the Inn, secretly shaking his head at the concentrated amount of stupidity that had been present in the common room that night. There they had been, her oh-so beloved companions, family and friends, all congratulating her, and not a single one of them had seemed to understand that Keri still hadn't been off the hook. She might have survived the trial, but now that she had proven so capable, he had seriously doubted that Lord Nasher would allow his newest squire to leave Neverwinter's service so easily. There would be new, dangerous tasks waiting for her, all for the glory of Neverwinter, and one would most likely prove deadly in the end.

Not that he had cared, though. As long as they kept their distance and he got his fair share of the loot, it truly hadn't mattered to him what happened to her or one of her morons. Bishop smiled bitterly at that thought, thinking of all the events that had taken place since that day, and felt something close to regret as his hands slowly started to strike her soft curls. Things had still been so much simpler that day…

Keridwen had looked lovely that evening, no use in denying that. She had worn the same elegant, embroidered tunic and pants that the wizard had gotten her for her trial, and he had watched her now and then as she had made her way through the crowded room, speaking with her uncle or one of the girls and even dancing now and then with one of her guests. It had actually surprised him to see her so cheerful, full of laughter and smiles and so very different from her usual calm, measured self or that pensive, troubled woman he had seen last night in the temple, and he had found his eyes drawn to her more frequently as the festivities went on.

It had been well past midnight and a few mugs later when his eyes had suddenly fallen on the paladin. The righteous fool had sat at a large table close to the counter along with the rest of Keridwen's companions, an untouched glass of wine in his hands, and had watched her dance with that fellow Harborman from the Watch, Cormick, with an expression of heartfelt sadness and longing in his eyes. Bishop had taken another swig from his ale, and an evil grin had spread across his face while he had watched the other man with interest.

_Well, now, look at this!_

Obviously, that holy fool had been in desperate need of a drink of a very different sort and yet did not seem to know how to make a move on the woman he so clearly desired, for he had not seen the two of them change more than a couple of words the whole evening. The dance had ended, and Keri had said her farewell to her fellow Watchman and had sat down at the table again with the rest of her companions, completely unaware of the looks the paladin had been giving her while she had talked with her friends.

He had never known what had made him stand up that night and move around the dancefloor to the table where she had been sitting, but the temptation had just been too great. He could still see the dark look on everyone's faces as he had approached, and how Keri's eyes had still sparkled with laughter from something the gnome had just said as she had turned around to face him, her cheeks a little flushed.

"A dance, _my lady_?"

She had raised her eyebrows questioningly at his mocking request, obviously both surprised and amused by his unusual offer, and her voice had been full of humorous disbelief as she had replied.

"_You_ like to dance?"

He had shrugged, still holding out his hand, and had given her one of his more charming smiles while he had watched the paladin's thunderstruck expression from the corner of his eye.

"On occasion."

For a moment, she had simply stared up at him with that unreadable, scrutinizing stare, making him fear for a second that she would actually have the nerve to decline his offer in front of everyone else. But then she had just smiled at him and had risen from her seat, taking his hand, and Bishop had had to suppress a laugh at the look of utmost disbelief on the paladin's face. He had returned her smile and had led her to the dancefloor, but not without winking at the man as they had passed him by, and for the length of a heartbeat, the evil grin had reappeared on his face as he had seen the look of loathing in the paladin's eyes.

_Oh, this is just too good to be ignored!_

The musicians had played a quick tune, and he had held her close as they had made their way between the other dancers, enjoying the burning jealousy he had seen on the paladin's livid face. It had been then, as some loose strands had caressed his face, that he had smelled the sweet scent of her hair for the first time, and it had stirred something in him. Her laughter, her scent, the feel of her slender body under his hands, so close to his own… maybe it had just been the hot, sticky air or the amount of consumed ale, but as they had danced in the Flagon that night, he had actually... _liked_ the feel of her.

It had disturbed him, to say the least. She was Duncan's niece, after all, and although he had grudgingly come to respect her and her skills as a warrior during their travels, he had never felt attracted to her before. Well, at least no more than any living man who spent most of his time out in the woods nowadays, with a handsome woman travelling by his side. This had felt different somehow, and he hadn't been able to discern why.

_And look at you, kneeling here, stroking her hair and pining for that pale-faced bitch like the good lapdog you've become while the noose's slowly tightening around your neck…_

An image suddenly entered his mind, he, kneeling beside her with his hand in her hair, scraping for the least bit of attention, just like the paladin, and the strange feeling in his heart turned into hot, blazing fury in an instant. Bishop hissed while his hands balled into fists, and he rose quickly to his feet, seething. His anger threatened to consume him, and so he drove his fists into a nearby tree with full force, a feral growl escaping his lips at the sharp pain that spread through his knuckles. The red haze before his eyes cleared immediately, and he exhaled sharply, his breathing ragged.

She was doing something with his head. Making him stick around, helping her, even risking his life for her when all he had ever gotten from her were nothing but words and that saddened, disappointed look after he had saved her worthless hide time and again. He had no idea how she did it, but he would _never_ make a fool of himself for a petty little wench such as her! He would wait until she had returned to consciousness, then lead her back to their camp and take his leave, just as planned. He didn't _need_ her, after all. He didn't _want_ her.

_And besides, you _did_ offer to lead her away from all this, and she refused, right?_

He glared at her sleeping form, and his anger turned into something bitter and unpleasant as the memories returned. He could still hear her quiet voice in his head, could still see the pitying look that she had given him, and he hated her even more for it as his heart gave a sudden pang at the images that came back to his mind.

_There are people counting on me, Bishop. I would never let them down._

He shouldn't have been surprised, though. He had known that she was stupid enough to believe in such things as honour, trust, responsibility- and that making a sacrifice for the greater good was much more important than her own survival. So why in the nine hells had he even _considered_ to take her along with him, and even against her will, if he had to?

_You wanted to show her that you were right, that's why! That there was no way how she could ever defeat the King of Shadows and come out of it alive, that your offer was the only alternative that made sense…_

That was why he had hunted her down on the battlements that night, had given her a last chance to take him up on his offer of her own free will. Of course she had said 'no', but he had been prepared, the soaked piece of cloth carefully hidden in his hand, and when he had heard her answer, he had been ready.

_When this war is over, and the King of Shadows has been defeated, you can ask me again, and then I will give you my answer._

He frowned as the memory of her softly spoken words came back to his mind, actually startling him. He had never given it a second thought before, for he had been too angry with her that night to think clearly about the words she had said to him. He had asked, and she had declined, which had been enough reason for him to drug her so that he could take her along with him as he had finally taken his leave. But right now, her words didn't sound like an outright 'no' to him anymore. They sounded more like a 'just not now', and his eyes widened noticeably as the sudden realization left him stunned, with cool shivers running down his spine as the beat of his heart quickened ever so slightly. Could it mean…

A sudden scream made him almost jump out of his skin, and he whirled around, alarmed, only to see Keridwen lying on the ground and tossing her head from side to side, writhing in agony. Before he even realised that he had moved at all, he was already kneeling beside her, reaching for her to see where she was hurt, and an icy feeling of dread spread through his guts as soon as he bent down to touch her.

A few moments ago, she had still been unconscious, her face ashen but calm and relaxed in the dim light of dawn. Now every muscle in her body seemed to spasm violently, and her high-pitched screams of anguish made the blood in his veins run cold while she was kicking wildly in her pain, sending the sheets of his bedroll flying across the clearing. Bishop tossed himself on top of her, pinning her arms and legs down with his own weight to prevent her from hurting herself in her wild struggles, and a part of him was truly impressed by the strength that was hidden in her slender body as Keridwen suddenly became very still, each muscle in her body taut like a bow-string.

When he looked down, breathing heavily, he saw that her eyes were actually open, staring blindly up into the grey sky, and as he reached down to lay a shaking hand on her neck, it felt as if a knife had suddenly been driven deep into his belly and was twisted violently amidst his guts. No pulse, no breathing.

Keri's heart had stopped beating.

For one terrible, long moment, Bishop could do nothing but stare at her with wide eyes, his breathing still ragged and his insides feeling like they were slowly icing over while his mind simply refused to accept what the touch of his hand kept telling him so clearly. Then a feeling welled through him that he had never experienced before, a blend of fear and pain so intense that it was actually terrifying, and with one hurried and frenzied move, he grabbed the collar of her tunic between his hands and ripped the cloth apart, almost down to her navel.

He barely noticed the fact that her skin was so pale now that her body almost seemed to glow in the dim light of dawn, or the thin, white scar that ran close to her left bosom, where the shard of the silver sword had pierced her body so many years ago. His sole focus lay on his hands as he laid them down on her chest, close to her heart, and started to massage her frantically, his jabs forceful enough to break a rib, but he didn't care, his mind feeling strangely numb, still refusing to accept the inevitable while his own heart was beating painfully fast, his pulse throbbing loudly in his ears.

The first rays of sunlight touched the top of the trees, illuminating the sky with the same unnatural, bloodred glow as the day before, but Bishop barely paid attention to the things that happened around him anymore. His eyes were solely fixed on Keridwen's so terribly pale face and those eyes that were still staring blindly into nothingness, and the feeling of utmost terror seemed to intensify with each moment that passed while he still tried to bring her back from the brink of death, back to him. But no matter how hard he tried, her heart just wouldn't start beating.

_I'm losing her._

The feeling of a knife being twisted violently amidst his guts returned with full force as soon as that incoherent thought entered his mind, and in a desperate need to do something, he reached for her shoulders and pulled her close, shaking her so forcefully that her head shook heavily from side to side, and his voice was thick with emotion as he shouted angrily into her lifeless face, his mind still in an uproar.

"Don't you _dare_ let them get at you so easily, woman! I have not stuck with you all that time just to have you dying on me now, so you _will_ fight them, got it? _Fight_!"

She simply lay in his arms, her limbs hanging feebly by her side, her normally so bright eyes now terribly dull and empty, and he felt a howl rise in his chest as the pain became almost unbearable all of a sudden, as the truth finally sank in.

_She's dead. They've killed her._

The howl in his chest suddenly broke free, as if a knot had just cracked inside him, and he threw back his head and screamed, his voice echoing loudly between the trees in the cool morning air, but he didn't even notice. Like a wounded beast, the pain left him with nothing but the single desire to strike at his enemies with his teeth and claws to make them _bleed_, make them _pay_, but all he could do was hold Keridwens lifeless body close in his arms instead, rocking slowly back and forth while he buried his head in her hair, and its sweet scent felt like thousand needles in his heart as he screamed again and again, shouting all the pain and rage and despair that suddenly threatened to consume him out into a cold and unfeeling bloodred sky.

* * *

_Something was different._

_She blinked, confused, as these strange, new sensations washed over her and seemed to invade her very being, tormenting her still sensitive senses. Where did these senses come from? She didn't know. Before, there had only been a mere existence without knowledge or thought, a simple drifting through time and space for what had felt like an eternity, but now there was _more_, and it confused her. _

_Was there supposed to be more? She couldn't tell._

_She blinked again, still bewildered by the sensation of being able to see something at all, because just a fleeting moment ago, there had been nothing but darkness around her, and she had been a part of it, floating aimlessly within it, without purpose, without incentive. Now there was a light that parted the dark mist before her like the blade of a knife, forcing everything within its reach to take shape, even herself, and that was why she was suddenly able to see things, feel things, _do_ things._

_The scenery around her had changed as well. The dark void had all of a sudden been replaced by something much more substantial, something strangely familiar, and she could feel its light weight pressing down on her as she continued to float through the dim halflight. Its touch was smooth as she slowly made her way through the void, and it startled her as she suddenly realised that she seemed to sink deeper and deeper, away from the light, as her newly found weight began to drag her down into the fathomless depths below._

_The thought frightened her a little. Before the light had parted the darkness around her, she had been more than content to just exist, to simply be. But now that she had returned to a kind of consciousness, there were pieces of images and thoughts welling up from a place deep within her, giving the shapes around her proper names and meanings, and she feared that she would loose all this the moment the light couldn't touch her anymore._

_She awkwardly lifted her head, the newfound sensation of having a body still feeling strangely alien to her, although the pieces of thought… _the memories?_… seemed to tell her that such a way of existence was actually quite far from uncommon, and so she curiously let her eyes wander through the halfdark around her, searching for the source of light._

_For a little while, she was just content to stare up at the bright orb that shone far above her head and was puzzled to see that the newfound form of the void seemed to distort its purplish light somehow, making it appear as if the void was actually shivering and waving, but she could feel no movement disturbing the quiet of her surroundings._

_What would it be like to be up there, close to the light, she mused while she lazily moved her arms and legs, her still clumsy movements making the void around her shiver ever so slightly. If she tried, would she be able to counterbalance her slow sinking towards the dark, and could actually ascend towards the light? Her self was filled by a sudden, burning desire, and she lifted her head once more, pleased to feel that, the longer she tried, her movements became more and more fluent. _

_This was where she wanted to be, where she belonged! _

_Every fibre of her newfound being _ached_ to reach up towards the light, and so she started to move her arms and legs, wild and uncoordinated at first, but after a while, her movements became more rhythmical, and joy welled through her being as she finally felt her self gliding away from the dark and upwards through the void, towards the light._

_Her ascent was slow, and after a while, exhaustion started to tug at her newborn limbs and forced her to hold on for a moment to recover her strength. The orb seemed to be truly high above her head, because even after all the time that she had spent rising from the depth, she didn't have the feeling of getting anywhere closer. But now that she had finally found an aim, a destination, she discovered to her own puzzlement that she was quite unwilling to give up on it so easily. The longing had miraculously ignited a fire deep within her self, and now it nourished her, lending her its strength to go on, to keep moving, and she embraced it willingly as she continued her strenuous rise through the void._

_Slowly, the scenery around her seemed to change, and her self with it. The higher she climbed, and the closer she came to the light, the more images and thoughts filled her being, sharpening her senses along with her feel for her body and self. She stopped in her movements to cast another quick glance at the brightly shining orb, as she suddenly realised that it actually had to be beyond the void, and that it was the movement of its newformed surface that distorted the light, and felt excitement mingling strongly with her anxiety as the longing became almost unbearable for a moment. That was where she wanted to go, to leave this empty, shadowy void behind to walk the world beyond, to bathe in the orb's warm light, and so she redoubled her efforts to reach the wavy surface._

_She did not know how long she had travelled through the void, watching the orb grow larger and larger with every move that brought her closer to her destination, and the surface was almost within her reach as she suddenly realised that she wouldn't make it. The fire, which had blazed so strongly within her self at first, had finally burned down to nothing but a faint glow of its former intensity, leaving her feeling cold and empty all of a sudden, and the breaks between her ascensions became longer and longer as the void seemed to thicken around her with every yard that she climbed, slowly draining her strength away with its quiet resistance._

_Exhaustion finally started to hinder her every move, and she paused, feeling her self slowly gliding towards the shadowy depths beneath her, while, for a fleeting moment, she truly pondered about giving in, to let go of the light and resign to the darkness once more as she suddenly heard the voice. It was a rough, strangely hollow sound, coming clearly from the other side of the shimmering, wavy horizon that separated the world of the orb from the void below, and it startled her that not only another self seemed to share this world with her, but that the sound of its voice actually evoked a response, a _feeling_ within her, as if the sound was even familiar._

_She hovered a few yards beneath the surface, slowly moving her arms and legs to stop her slow sinking towards the dark, and uncertainty ate at her self as she tried to discern the various feelings the voice awakened within her. There was something like joy, a strange kind of longing that mingled strongly with wariness and a vague fear of being hurt, or betrayed, and the contrariness of her feelings was actually rather confusing. She frowned as she stared up at the shining light that suffused the void, and for the first time, she truly wondered whether she _really_ wanted to rise to a place where she would meet someone who had awoken such strange, contradicting emotions within her._

_The voice kept echoing through the void, and curiously, she climbed a little higher as it got strangely distorted by the void, just like the light. Something about the way the words sounded through the halfdark, somewhat chopped and strangely breathless, told her that the unknown speaker seemed to be very angry, and to her utmost surprise, he actually seemed to talk to _her_, reprimanding her for her weakness and urging her to fight, to move on. _

_But how could that be? Even if there was another being, out there by the light, how could it know that she was here in the void?_

_For another long moment, she simply hovered on the spot, still uncertain what she wanted to do, as a sudden thought entered her mind, and her frown deepened. If the other had a voice, wouldn't she be able to speak as well? To talk to him?_

_A scream echoed suddenly through the void, as wild and furious as the howl of a monstrous beast, and she leaped in fright, her eyes widening noticeably as she stared intently at the shimmering surface above. The other screamed again and again, a sound so full of rage and despair that it was even painful to listen to it, and she could see the wavering of the void increase with every howl, as if it actually responded to the call. The howl awoke an answering pain deep within her, and before she even realised what she was doing, she was already moving her arms and legs forcefully once more, her eyes now fixed on the shimmering surface above her head._

_She didn't know whether she had hurt the other with her indecision or not, but she knew without doubt that his pain seemed to reverberate in her very being, and her former desire to rise to the surface was suddenly replaced by the no less fierce desire to ease the other's pain, to stop him from hurting so much. The void seemed to thicken even more with every move that she made, leaving her limbs to ache painfully from sheer exhaustion, but a new fire had been kindled within her, and so she fought with all her strenght, fighting for every inch of her way until with a last, forceful move, she finally broke through the surface of the void, and she experienced another new sensation as the air of the surface world filled her lungs, so deliciously cool and sweet, and for a fleeting moment, she stared up at the shining orb and the glittering stars that rimmed its path in stunned awe before she was finally forced to close her eyes against the blinding light, and everything became dark around her once more._

*****


	12. Chapter 11

**Under a Violet Moon**

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form._

_Author's Note: Did I mention that I like emotional character dramas? No? If not, be prepared, because we are now reaching the part of the story were the emotions of the characters are beginning to run wild... ah, the drama! :D_

_Many thanks again to everyone who left a review or added this story to their favs/story alert - your support is highly appreciated, as always!_

_**Psychic Koala:** I'm really glad you liked the dance scene. Many people I've spoken to don't like the idea of a dancing Bishop, so I'm glad that it didn't seem out of character to you. It's good to know you still enjoy the story, so I hope that this update won't disappoint._

_**Kalyane:** It's good to know you liked Bishop's reaction to her death. His is a very tricky character when it comes to displaying strong emotions, so I'm glad his actions were convincing. He strikes me as a rather wolvish man (he has not bonded with Karnwyr for nothing, after all), so that's what I was aiming for. ;)_

**_Lemonbreeze_**_**:** __So, now the story continues - I hope it won't disappoint! :)_

_**Llandaryn:** I love using flashbacks for the very reasons you described - it's a wonderful tool to shed some light on the past events that influenced the feelings between these two characters without having to retell the whole OC, and I'm glad that you like the way I use them. That last one is one of my favourite chapters for various reasons, so it's good to know you enjoyed it! :)_

_**jeandark:** Thanks, dear - I'm very happy that you liked that last chapter and can only hope that the rest won't disappoint!_

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**11**

The first thing she felt as she slowly returned to consciousness was the pain… and the cold. It seemed to permeate her very being, paralysing her mind and limbs with its freezing touch, and her chest felt like it had been squeezed in a vice, leaving every single breath to be barely less than agony.

The darkness around her had finally given way to a strange, whirling kaleidoscope of bloodred, grey and black, and she had to close her burning eyes for a moment, her mind simply overwhelmed by the sheer endless amount of sounds and images that suddenly needed to be rearranged and understood. There was a sudden movement by her side, startling her, and with some effort, she slowly opened her eyes, only to see a dark figure looming above her, its shape strangely blurred as her eyes were still unable to focus clearly on her surroundings.

"_Keridwen?_"

A calloused hand reached for her neck, steadying her while pulling her even closer to the figure, and she had to shut her eyes again as the sudden movement made her feel sick and forced her stomach to churn wildly all of a sudden. She tried to take another agonizing breath, but saliva caught in her throat and she coughed violently, her chest suddenly feeling like it had been set on fire. In her weakened state, the pain was almost more than she could bear, and for a fleeting moment, she truly feared that the darkness would overwhelm her still fragile senses once and for all as the edge of her vision started to cloud once more. But the hand around her neck steadied her, lifted her into a more upright position until her coughs finally subsided and she could breathe more freely, and now the cool air felt almost soothing against the sensitive skin of her raw throat.

She blinked, her eyes still burning, and for the length of a heartbeat her vision cleared long enough for her to see a pair of hazel eyes before her, watching her intently, sitting in a pale, angular face rimmed by disheveled, mahogany hair. Then the figure moved closer, and she found herself pressed against a leather-clad chest, the arms that encircled her holding her so tightly that it was almost painful, and she could feel its hands and shoulders tremble ever so slightly as she savoured the warmth that suddenly spread through her body, thawing her still freezing limbs.

The warmth enveloped her, nourished her, and with each passing moment, she could feel a part of her strength return while her mind became sharper and more focused, slowly filling with memory and thought. Her other senses sprang back to life, leaving her with the ability to feel and smell again, and it was then that her nose suddenly caught the whiff of a scent that was familiar enough to stir a memory.

_Bishop._

All of a sudden, images and feelings began to flood her mind, carrying the memory of a familiar face, paired with an urgent wish to reach him, to free herself from a deadly trap along with the desperate desire to shield her self from a devastating pain that she had never experienced before, and she felt her spirits rise as that line of thought made relief and joy well up inside her, despite her exhaustion.

She was with him again. She was safe now.

As her mind returned to a certain degree of wakefulness and the burning pain in her eyes slowly began to subside, the world around her came finally back into focus, and for a short while, she was just content to take in the familiar look of the buckles and straps of his leather armour and the coarse stubbles of reddish-brown hair that darkened his chin, relishing the warmth that spread through her body, the skin of his neck almost feverish compared with her cool cheek.

"_You're so warm…_"

Her voice was barely more than a croaked whisper, spoken softly against the warm skin of his throat, but she felt him tense immediately, the grip of his hands tightening painfully around her. Then he suddenly let go, and she was none too gently laid back onto the ground, the sudden movement making her head spin and leaving her stomach to churn violently while her body was already shivering, now that he had taken his warmth away. A throbbing pain spread through her temples, forcing her to close her eyes with a moan to stop her head from hurting so much, and bile rose in her throat, the acid mingling strongly with the coppery taste that she could suddenly taste in her mouth.

A whine to her left caught her attention, and slowly, she turned her head, the effort of that simple movement already enough to leave her breathing heavily and her head hurting painfully again. A wolf stood amidst the large fir trees, less than a yard away, its grey fur damp with morning dew, hesitantly trotting back and forth while it lowered its head submissively, and its high-pitched, heartbreaking whines made goose bumbs rise all over her body. The wolf's gaze wandered questioningly between her face and a place somewhere to her right, and she frowned as the intelligent light in those amber eyes actually stirred another memory.

_Karnwyr._

She remembered the wolf. He was with Bishop. He was a friend.

There was the sound of soft footsteps approaching, and then Bishop kneeled beside her again, a large sheet in his hand, and she sighed contentedly as he covered her with it, the warmth now slowly returning into her still strangely frozen limbs.

"Here, take this."

Bishop's voice sounded surprisingly hoarse, as if his throat was somewhat sore, and there were dark shadows under his eyes that made his face look unusually pale and solemn even in the bloodred light of day, and it surprised her to see him without the familiar mocking half-smile that usually played in the corners of his mouth. He frowned all of a sudden, and one of his hands reached for her face to touch the corner of her mouth, his fingers so deliciously warm against her cool skin, and something like alarm flickered in his hazel eyes as he stared at the red liquid that now coloured the tips of his fingers.

The wolf whined again, and Bishop looked up, a grim expression on his face, and for the length of several heartbeats man and wolf simply stared at each other, giving her the strange impression that they were actually exchanging more than just looks. Then the wolf turned around and trotted back into the woods, just to turn his head after a couple of steps as if to check whether they were following him or not, and Bishop reached for her with a growl, swiftly lifting her into his arms so that her head rested against the bend of his neck, and she winced as she was forced to close her eyes once again, the throbbing pain in her temples increasing almost immediately due to his sudden movement.

They walked through the woods in silence, the wolf leading the way with Bishop following close on its heels, carrying her in his arms, but as pain and exhaustion continued to numb her still weakened senses, she spent most of their travel through the bloodred shadows in a drowsy state of dizziness, gliding in and out of consciousness while she slowly breathed in his scent, savouring the feel of his arms around her, holding her protectively against his chest. She couldn't tell how long they kept wandering like this through the dim light of day, searching their way through the bloodred shadows under the trees, and sleep was starting to tug at her as they finally came to a halt and she was lowered carefully onto the ground, her back now leaning firmly against a tree.

For a fleeting moment, her curiosity got the better of her almost desperate desire to rest and regain some of her strength and with effort, she managed to open her eyes long enough to see Bishop kneeling a few yards away from her, carefully scanning their surroundings while he seemed to gather some things that lay scattered across the ground to his feet, and she felt a strange feeling settling in her stomach as she saw the long and foreboding shadows the large oak trees were casting onto the grass. Karnwyr lay in the middle of the clearing, hackling contentedly while he watched the man rise from his crouched position and make his way back across the clearing towards the woman, and she closed her eyes again with a sigh, feeling strangely dizzy all of a sudden.

"I've good news for you, Captain.", Bishop said somewhere to her left, his voice surprisingly quiet and accompanied by the sound of something heavy being put down beside him on the ground, but sleep kept tugging at her, trying to lure her into its dark embrace, and so she kept her eyes firmly shut, finally allowing her mind to fully drift away to unconsciousness, and his next words sounded strangely distant already as if they reached her from afar. "Seems like all our things are still here, and it looks like your shadow friend has decided to… Captain?"

A sudden pain spread across her face, pulling her back from the edge of sweet oblivion, and startled, she opened her eyes just to see Bishop now kneeling in front of her, his hands lifting her head so that she could actually look at him, and his dark eyes bored hard into hers as he spoke, his voice now low and threatening.

"Look, Captain, I don't care how you do it - but you _will_ stay awake, do you understand me?"

There were small, bloody scratches on his cheek, and she frowned, confused by the menacing undertone in his voice and her own cheek still burning strongly from the none too gentle slap he had given her, her temple actually feeling a little chafed where the stubbles of his chin had been rubbing constantly against her skin while he had carried her in his arms, and her voice was barely more than a soft murmur as she replied.

"You could use a shave, you know…"

For the length of a heartbeat, he simply stared at her, his eyes widening noticeably in surprise. Then he scowled, and she could hear him hiss under his breath as he half-turned to start rummaging through his backpack, looking thunderous.

"I must have gotten _insane_!", he growled, pulling a small leather pouch from his bag. Its content tingled slightly, the chiming sound of glass hitting softly against glass, and Keridwen fought hard to keep her eyes open while Bishop tore at the bindings of the pouch with stiff and angry moves, the sweet promise of sleep and rest still so very alluring.

But something told her that he would not hesitate to slap her again - and even harder, should need be - and since her cheek still prickled more than uncomfortable from his last hit, she tried hard to resist the poisonous voice that was luring her back into oblivion when Bishop turned back to her, holding a small vial in his hand. It's green colour looked strangely sick in the reddish light of day, but it sparkled slightly as he held it right in front of her nose, his expression still thunderous.

"Drink that.", he snarled, and the tone of his voice was so commanding that Keridwen had already raised her hand and reached for the vial before her foggy mind had even registered that she had complied. The glass felt surprisingly warm under her fingers, but even its small weight seemed to be too much for her exhausted body. Her hand began to shake the moment she carried it, and although she managed to close the other around the small cork that stuck in the neck of the vial, she simply couldn't pull it out.

Bishop watched her fruitless struggle for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. Then he leaned forward to rip the vial from her hands with a snarl, and with a hissed _Hell's fire_ he pulled the cork out and lifted the potion to her mouth, his other hand reaching quickly for her neck, and Keridwen was startled when she felt small beads of sweat on her forehead, her breathing now irregular and shallow.

"Drink!"

He steadied her head while she did so, his touch surprisingly gentle – firm, but not as rough as she had expected, judging by the livid expression on his face. The liquid tasted… different, but not unpleasant, and warmth seemed to spread from her belly the very moment she finished her drink. But unlike the by now familiar warmth that made her limbs feel a little too heavy and tried to lure her back to sleep, this one seemed actually to sharpen her senses, to clear the fog that was clouding her mind, and so she drank greedily when he offered her another vial, her breathing slowly returning to normal as she did so.

The warmth spread through her limbs and rushed through her veins, gradually restoring her strength while making her prickle all over, and Keridwen leaned back with a sigh against the trunk of the tree, her eyes firmly closed while she enjoyed the tingling sensation now that the pain in her body and mind was slowly subsiding. Bishop let go of her, and this time she could hear his voice much more clearly as he spoke, still sounding slightly annoyed.

"That's better, Captain. Now sit tight and let the potions do their work while I pack our things… and remember – if you fall asleep, you'll regret it."

That last comment sounded so much like him that she couldn't help but to smile.

"Aye, sir.", she replied calmly, and although her voice was still rough, it was certainly an improvement from the soft whisper she had managed before. She could hear Bishop snort at her reply, and she imagined the expression on his face while he stared down at her, probably considering whether he should answer her good-natured banter with a caustic reply of his own.

But in the end, he seemed to decide against it and simply walked away, starting to collect their various possessions that were probably strewn about the whole clearing…

_The clearing!_

With a jolt, Keridwen sat up and opened her eyes, and for the first time since she had regained her consciousness her gaze was sharp and focused as she took in the familiar sight of the bloodred sky and large trees, casting ominous shadows on Bishop as he swiftly tried to cover the most obvious tracks near their campsite… and now that the fog around her mind had finally vanished, it brought back the memories with full force – her strange dream, the feeling of being at two places at once, her soul trapped in a summoning circle... and her last view as Qara's spell had slowly consumed the life of her astral form, leaving nothing but darkness behind.

_The King of Shadows. **He** has returned!_

"Bishop!"

Her call was sharp, her voice rough, but if Bishop heard the urgency beneath her words, he did not act on it.

"What now?", he asked in his cool voice while he went over to cover the remnants of their fire, but didn't look up. Grinding her teeth together, Keridwen gripped the trunk behind her with both hands and slowly pulled herself up into a standing position, her arms and legs aching from the sudden exhaustion. For a moment, she stood there panting, and joy filled her heart that she had been able to get up on her own.

But the strength the potions had returned to her limbs was vanishing rapidly now, and stars began already to flicker in front of her eyes while she took another shaking breath, the muscles in her legs trembling forebodingly while she felt a sharp sting in her chest.

"Bishop…"

She tried to reach for the tree to steady herself, but could already feel her arm muscles quiver, knowing that they wouldn't be able to hold her upright much longer. Bishop finally cast a glance over his shoulder, and Keridwen swallowed when she saw his expression change from ill-tempered to furious in a heartbeat.

"Have you lost your _bloody_ mind?", he hissed when he caught her in his arms just before she was falling headlong back onto the grass. Now that she was leaning once more against his chest, she could smell his scent again, gradually becoming harsher due to their days out in the wilds, but strangely enough it didn't disturb her. On the contrary, his closeness seemed to ease the nausea that now quickly followed her exertion and so she leaned even a little into his embrace, the warmth of his body surprisingly soothing.

Then his hand grabbed her hair sharply, and Keridwen felt her breath catch in her throat when Bishop forced her to look up into his eyes, fury making them burn like amber coals in the dim light of day. His voice was harsh as he spoke, as if he was gritting his teeth so hard that they were about to shatter.

"Listen, woman, and listen carefully. Pull a stunt like that _ever_ again, and I'll beat you so hard that you'll never be able to get up. Are we clear?"

She swallowed once more, not knowing what to make of his sudden anger, and tried to explain.

"Bishop…"

"_Are we clear?_", he hissed, cutting her reply off with a snarl, his hand tightening painfully in her hair. Startled by his sudden vehemence, she could do nothing but give him a feeble nod, her eyes watering from the pain in her scalp. For a moment he simply held her gaze, his grip tightening once more. Then he let go of her hair, and his voice sounded at least a little calmer as he replied.

"Good."

"I'm sorry.", she murmured weakly, a part of her feeling ashamed of her own stupidity. He was right to scold her. By doing too much way too soon, she had almost ruined the effects the healing potions had had on her… and by doing so had not only endangered herself, but his life, too. "But we need to keep moving."

"Tell me something I _don't_ know, Captain.", he replied acidly when he leaned her none too gently back against the tree, but something in his gaze had softened when he sat back on his heels to stare at her.

"Look, I'll just take care of the fire, and then we'll set out on our way to the North."

"_No!_", she said, and Bishop cocked his eyebrows ever so slightly, obviously surprised by her sudden vehemence.

"Please, you don't… you don't understand. **He**'s back, Bishop - I saw it all. The ritual… noone was there to stop him, and so Garius… he succeeded. We need to get out of Illefarn territory, and we need to do it quickly."

That statement made his eyebrows rise even higher, the look he was giving her now nothing short of sceptical, and Keridwen felt urgency and despair reaching for her with sharp and icy claws. She _needed_ him to understand, to believe her. If he did not… it could be the end of them all.

"Touch the land.", she demanded urgently, feebly reaching for his hand. "You can feel the difference. We cannot go North. It would be the death of us."

She could see his eyes narrow as her fingers closed around his, his shoulders even tensing at her touch. But he was obviously battling with indecision, weighing her words against his common sense, and so Keridwen did the only thing she could think of to convince him – she pleaded.

"Bishop, _please_…"

A strange emotion flickered across his face at her softly spoken words, kindling a different fire in his eyes, and Keridwen felt the old feeling of foreboding churn in her stomach as he looked at her with this fiery stare, making her suddenly aware of the fact that she was still holding his hand. She let go as if she had burned herself, treacherous heat already creeping into her cheeks, but forced herself to hold his gaze evenly nonetheless. In this very moment, it had suddenly occurred to her that she was out here in the wilds, suffering gravely from an almost fatal wound and completely at the mercy of a man who actually despised her, and weak people on principle.

_Never let a predator smell your fear._

"Fine.", Bishop said calmly after a while, and Keridwen repressed a sigh of relief when he leaned back a little, but that strange look in his eyes did not go away. "We'll go East, then – into the Sword Mountains, and then we'll see."

She allowed herself to close her eyes for a brief moment to calm her mind, feeling strangely exhausted by their battle of will, and was thankful that she could still feel the magic of the potions doing their work, rebuilding her strength… but so very slowly.

"Thank you.", she murmured, glad that he was willing to trust her enough to change directions and not simply leave her behind. Bishop just nodded and then got up, only to return shortly afterwards with his backpack back in place and his scimitars hanging from their sheaths at his side. He stepped closer, and Keridwen tensed when she felt his arms glide under her legs and back to lift her up into his arms before he headed from the clearing with long, purposeful strides, Karnwyr trotting silently beside them.

She was highly aware of his hand on her legs and the way her body was now pressed against his chest and tensed out of reflex, her body becoming stiff as a board.

"Would you just relax?", Bishop growled when he stepped under the trees, clearly sensing her discomfort. "It's no pleasure to carry you around all day, Captain, believe me – and the next time I feel a sharp elbow in my ribs, I'll just let you fall."

"I'm sorry.", she replied as she tried to calm her tense muscles while pulling her arms closer against her body, but it was difficult. She could not walk on her own. He had to carry her. But unlike before, his closeness had no soothing effect on her anymore. On the contrary, with the memory of his burning gaze still vivid in her mind, being pressed so closely against his chest made her feel highly uncomfortable, and not for the first time did Keridwen wish that she was strong enough to walk on her own.

They made their way through the quiet woods in silence, the soft sound of Bishop's footsteps the only disturbance in an unnaturally quiet vicinity. Keridwen tried to keep still and relax, even when her legs began to prickle from their uncomfortable position, and felt a strange ache rise in her heart as she watched Bishop from the corner of her eye. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, the dark circles under his eye speaking so clearly of his own exhaustion, his arms trembling ever so slightly due to her weight, but still he kept walking with her in his arms, never slowing his pace, always on his guard, and Keridwen couldn't help but to feel touched by his effort, even though she knew that it was only professional.

"I think I should be grateful that you're not leaving me behind.", she murmured quietly while they were crossing a small brook, even the sound of the lively flowing water seeming strangely diminished in the bloodred half-light.

"Oh, you certainly should be." His eyes flickered to hers for a moment, and Keridwen could see that the strange look was still burning in their depths, mingling with other emotions she could not read, and she felt a cool shiver run down her spine at their frightening intensity.

"But do not think for a second that I'll ever forget how much you owe me, Captain."

*****


	13. Chapter 12

**Under a Violet Moon**

_Disclaimer:__ "Neverwinter Nights" and all the characters and places within belong to Obsidian and Bioware, not me, and I just borrowed them for a little joyride through Faerun. Keridwen is mine. Attentive readers might find some of her weaponmaster philosophies similar to some aspects of Frank Herbert's 'Dune' saga... and they're right. I always found his concept about fear and its control highly intriguing, and so I decided to use it as Keridwen's mantra in an altered form._

_Author's Note: First of all, I have to apologize to my readers for letting them wait for so long. The original version of this chapter was much, much longer (which is why it took me so long to write :/), but once it was finished, I realised that it didn't work at all and cut out half of it again - leaving the now uploaded result, which I like much better. At least it has lots and lots of Bishop, which I hope will make up for the pause, and now I'm free to move on to the next chapter... which will hopefully be finished much faster. Many thanks again for all the encouraging reviews - I couldn't do this without all your wonderful support, and I hope you keep enjoying the story! :)_

_**Idiotwhocantthinkofapenname:** Thank you so much for your feedback - I'm glad you like this story so far, and hope that it won't disappoint in the future!_

_**Vshard:** Thanks a lot for the feedback. I'm glad you like the overall concept of the story, and that you find it entertaining despite the critique points you mentioned. I struggled with some parts of the last chapter, so I'm happy to hear that it was worth the work to straighten them out. ;)_

_**Kalyane:** Here he comes, dear, just for you! ;P_

_**jeandark:** I really hope your exams went well, dear, and I'm more than happy to hear you still enjoy the story!_

_**Llandaryn:** Thanks for your inner grammar nazi. I'll do my best to make it right from now on, but if you spot any other mistakes, please let me know!_

_As for the story - we're just beginning to pick up speed, so I can asure you that both Keridwen and Bishop will have to make some difficult decisions in the future. That's what I love about writing my own AU universe - the reader never knows what's about to happen, and I can let my imagination run wild. :D _

_And I haven't forgotten your stories, believe me - work's simply keeping me insanely busy at the moment, but I'll come back soon!_

**_Lemonbreeze:_**_ Another emotional chapter, just for you. ;) I hope you'll enjoy this one, and as for your own story - I managed to read some more in the past few days, and it's progressing very nicely. I'll leave some proper reviews soon, but I just wanted to use this opportunity to let you know I like where you're going, and hope that you will update soon! ;)_

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**12**

_He was walking in the shadows of Crossroad Keep._

_Not the impressive fortress it had once been, with its reinforced battlements and alert Greycloaks that were patrolling the walls, their armours and weapons shimmering proudly in the light of the watchfires. It was the ruin it had now become, filled with the stench of death and long, foreboding shadows, and he gripped the hilts of his scimitars tightly while he nimbly made his way between the broken walls and crumbled towers, his eyes searching for any signs of his quarry… or the enemy._

_He did not have to search for long. He found her in the inner courtyard, kneeling motionlessly on the ground, her dark hair blowing gently in a breeze that he could not feel._

_"Captain?"_

_She looked up when he approached, the simple white gown that she was wearing making her look even paler than usual, and there was something in her eyes that he had never seen there before, feeling both foreign and strangely familiar at the same time. A kind of … hunger?_

_He could see no trace of her sword, though, and it bothered him when he kneeled down beside her, his eyes darting between the ruins around them and her face. Why had she come back here, if not to fetch her weapon? And if she could not find it, why did she linger?_

Foolish woman.

_"Look, captain, I know that the Keep looks quiet for now, but that might change any minute. Did you find what you were looking for?"_

_She just kept staring at him, neither speaking nor making any moves to get up, her hands folded almost demurely in her lap. There was something lying beneath her long fingers, and he frowned, not knowing what to make of the glimpses he could catch. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that it was some sort of wooden doll, something the kids in the Keep had played with – but what would _she_ want with a thing like that?_

_"We should leave." he pressed on, hoping that the urgency in his voice would finally startle her into action. "Whatever you were hoping to find, it's not here. We should fall back to the trees, and then go East, like you suggested."_

_"I already tried." Her voice was calm and composed, as usual, but there was a sadness hidden beneath her quiet voice that he did not understand, and he did not like it one bit._

_"This is what I am now." she said, her eyes never leaving his face as if she was pleading for him to understand. "No matter where I go, it always leads back to this. I will never be free of it."_

_He stared at her, at the way her chestnut-coloured hair was hanging in tousled curls around her face, framing her delicate features and forming a stark contrast to her white face. Her cheeks were almost deathly pale, but her blue eyes seemed to sparkle with an inner fire that made them shine like azure flames in the halfdark. She looked so lost, so beautiful in the light of the moon that, for a fleeting moment, it simply took his breath away._

_Slowly, as if his arms were pulled on strings, he reached out to bury his hands in her hair, savouring the strangely intimate feel of the soft strands and even softer skin under his fingers. She offered no resistance to his touch, just kept watching him with her bright eyes, and his heart ached painfully when he realised all of a sudden why that fire in her eyes had seemed so strangely familiar. It was the hunger for something that was irretrievably lost - a yearning of the heart so desperate, so powerful that it was eating away at the very core of her being, slowly consuming her as it had once consumed him so many years ago when all his childhood dreams had suddenly turned to ashes, dying a most painful death in the harsh fire of reality._

_Had he leaned closer? He was not certain, but he could smell her scent now, sweet and seductive and as intoxicating as any wine. He could see a hint of the shard scar marring her chest, and the way her simple gown clung to her curves ignited a different kind of fire in his blood that made him forget about the grief in her eyes in an instant. Her sudden closeness, her unexpected submission… wasn't that what _he_ had wanted, what _he_ had hungered for? If she did nothing to stop him, did nothing to object… didn't that mean that she _wanted_ him to touch her?_

_He slowly sank towards the ground and took her with him, now lying underneath him in the grass, and lost himself in the sapphire depths of her eyes while his hands moved from her head to her neck to gently shove the gown down her shoulders, the sensation of his caloused hands running over her soft skin making him shiver. She still did nothing to stop him, just kept staring up at him with that saddened look in her eyes, and his heart ached despite the low burning that was now spreading rapidly through his body, her hurting piercing him like a thousand needles in his heart, battling his arousal._

_He could not bear to see her so sad, so defeated. Her quiet suffering ignited within him an almost desperate longing to comfort her, to lead her away from this misery and to a place where she could return to being the free and confident woman who had won his respect so long ago… the woman he wanted._

_There was a strange, cracking sound nearby, and Bishop's eyes widened in alarm when he looked up and saw the earth around them suddenly break open. A dozen arms were forcefully digging their way to the surface, their flesh ripped and bloody, showing the waxen pallor of death, and the fingers of their hands were bent like claws when they began to grope widely across the ground._

_He jumped back, aghast, and watched in growing horror as hand after hand after hand finally clamped around Keridwen's lithe form, reaching for her arms, her legs, her hair. She did nothing to stop them, and did not even flinch as their sharp nails tore into her own flesh, her blood soon staining her white gown with red._

"_It is fate, you know?"_

_It was Black Garius the Human and not the skeletal Reaver he had become who was now watching the drama in the courtyard with unfeeling eyes, but that did not keep Bishop from reaching for his weapons, his muscles tensing as adrenaline was pumped through his veins at the sight of their enemy._

_Garius watched his moves without the slightest hint of emotion while he unabashedly went on with his speech, his voice the only sound in the Keep apart from the crumbling of earth and Bishop's harsh breathing, his gaze piercing._

"_These events have long been foretold before even the first Empire rose from the Mere, only to crumble once more beneath the stars. And yet here you are, thinking that _you_ of all people could safe her?" His voice turned cold, dismissive. "I think not."_

_The claws around Keridwen suddenly tightened their grip, now dragging her slowly under the ground, and Bishop screamed, throwing himself into the steadily growing pool of hands, trying to ignore the pain as their sharp claws ripped into the flesh of his legs and arms. His eyes were trained on Keridwen's small form, already halfway sunken into the earth, and still she was watching him with that look of utmost sadness in her eyes, their silent plea making him feel as if a knife was slowly turned in his heart._

_He screamed again, an impotent shout of fury and rage and lunged forward, trying to reach her arms to pull her to safety, but the hands were always getting in his way, effectively blocking his own while she sank deeper and deeper into the ground…. deeper…_

Bishop woke up with a start, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. There was a shadow looming above him, and he quickly reached for the knife across his chest, intending to slash at his opponent before he would loose the advantage of his well-trained reflexes and speed. But then the shadow moved a little to let a ray of moonlight fall onto a wide-eyed face, and he suddenly got aware of the hand that was touching his shoulder, its grip firm but gentle.

"Bishop?"

It was Keridwen, kneeling beside him, her face looking even paler than all day in the eerie light of the moon.

"Are you alright?"

She sounded worried, concerned, and he stared as her eyes seemed to catch the light of Selune, shimmering slightly. He remembered vividly how he had gazed into these eyes as he had touched her in his sleep, how soft her dreamskin had felt under his hands, and forcefully pulled his shoulder out of her grip as if he had burned himself, his disbelief at his dream actions quickly followed by an irrationally strong wave of fury.

"I'm fine." he hissed with his teeth now bared in a vicious snarl, anger making his voice even sharper than he had intended. "Get lost."

For a moment she held his gaze, and Bishop was certain to see some emotion flicker across her face at his angry rejection… hurt? Confusion? But then she simply nodded and stood up, slowly making her way back to her resting place, her expression schooled back into that calm mask he loathed and knew so well as she picked up his cloak and sat down on the ground once more, continuing her meditation.

He simply watched her go, and couldn't help but feeling impressed by her strength and determination even against his will. This very morning, she had been more dead than alive after her miraculous revival, and only a few hours and some potions and meditations later, she was already able to walk freely again for a short time with only the dark shadows under her eyes betraying her exhaustion when she did so.

_Blasted, burning hells!_

He experienced a brief moment of guilt for loosing his temper like that, but the fury was still swirling inside him, a strangely impotent rage that left him feeling furious and helpless at the same time, filling him with an almost desperate need to jump up, to run, to shout – _anything_ to vent his frustration.

How was this possible? How could things have gotten so out of hand?

And that it should happen to _him_, of all people – he who had always prided himself on his ability to sever all ties easily, to cut even the slightest chains of attachment without a single thought of regret?

_You're bloody pathetic, that's what you are._

He growled deep in his chest as the rage inside him seemed to burn white hot at that thought, coiling in his belly like snakes, and he laid down once more between the sheets, his eyes firmly closed and grinding his teeth so hard that for a moment, he feared they would shatter.

_Why now? Why _her_?_

With a small growl, he forcefully turned away from her and closed his eyes, still seething. No use to think about it now. He had done more than his share of work today, and now he would get some rest. Since Keridwen had been sleeping most of the day, either nestled against his chest or meditating when they had made some brief stops so that he could stretch his arms and legs, she was finally feeling strong enough to stay up without becoming unconscious for a while, and so they had decided that she would take first watch for as long as she could, along with Karnwyr.

Not that she had really asked him for his opinion, mind you. She had merely informed him that she wanted to stay up and meditate to recover her strength, so that he could lay down and get some rest after the exhaustion of the day.

As if he was one of her feeble lackeys from the Keep who needed coddling. Had he not carried her for the most part of the day, only halting briefly to get some feeling back into his sore arms and back when he really couldn't take it anymore?

The memory of how he had held her in his arms, her own nestled firmly against his chest and her breath warm on his throat while she had been sleeping… he swallowed hard when he remembered how he had glared at her sleeping form at times, only to feel a wave of panic wash through him when it looked like her heart had stopped beating once more, only to let out a brief sigh of relief when he had felt her breath still on his skin, calm and regular… mostly followed by another angry glare because it was all _her_ fault that his life had gotten so complicated all of a sudden, because she had tricked him somehow.

The dream came back to his mind, and he closed his eyes even harder as if it could help to shut out the memories. But he couldn't stop the images from dancing in front of his eyes, of the feeling of his hands on her soft skin, of the sudden urge to hold her, to touch her… and of his own growing fear when the hands had began to drag her down under the earth, and how she had stared at him, her eyes filled with a silent reprimand as if these unfortunate events had been _his_ fault after all, as if he had let her down once more…

He sat up with a growl, forcefully rubbing his eyes while his searing gaze returned to Keridwen's silent form, probably burning a hole right through his cloak.

As if it wasn't enough that she made his life hell while he was awake, now she was even ruining his sleep!

But no matter how much he loathed the fact, he had to admit that he would not find any rest for as long as his mind was racing like a bunch of panicked mice.

_Fool._

He got up and stalked across the small clearing that he had chosen as their camp for tonight, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine when he felt that strange sensation wash over him again, as if someone was constantly breathing down his neck.

_Maybe she wasn't wrong about the King of Shadows, after all._

Keridwen opened her eyes when he sat down on a large root beside her, her gaze questioning. Karnwyr was watching him attentively, lying on her other side, a curious expression on his face.

"Go to sleep," he murmured gruffly, not quite able to meet her eye. "I'll keep watch."

He could feel her eyes on him, watching his face, and he did not need to look at her to know exactly how she was staring at him right now, her head slightly tilted to one side while she tried to make sense of his actions, her slightly furrowed brows the only sign of her confusion. Somehow, he could not blame her.

_Believe me, Captain, this doesn't even make sense to me._

It was still some time until the beginning of his watch. He couldn't have slept much longer than the better part of an hour, judging by the position of the moon, but after a long moment of silence, Keridwen simply got up and took his cloak from her shoulders, her pale hands forming a stark contrast against the dark cloth when she held it out to him. He took it without casting her as much as a glance, keeping his silence, and so she simply turned around to walk over to his bedroll, readying herself to go to sleep.

For a moment, Keridwen was fighting with the various sheets of wool and leather, but he would rather have thrown himself headlong into a spider-infested cavern than walked over to help her get comfortable. So he simply got up again to throw the cloak around his shoulders, still warm with her heat, and tried his best to ignore the way his heart sped up when he caught a whiff of her scent, still lingering between the woolen folds.

* * *

The mere had always been an eerie place at night, especially without a fire, but now it had changed into something way beyond creepy. Something different, and dangerous, and it made the hairs on his neck stand up while Bishop sat there in the strange purple half-dark, his skinning knife in one hand and the other closed resolutely around an untouched piece of wood, his burning glare trained on the young woman sleeping only a few feet away on the damp ground.

How long since he had taken over from her? An hour? Two?

He had sent Karnwyr on his way, hunting, and had picked up a piece of wood to let the carving help to ease his mind. It was soothing, working his hands that way, to let his thoughts come to rest while concentrating on the idle moves of the blade.

It had been a good plan. But since Keridwen's breathing had turned from quick and shallow to the deep breaths that told him that she was fast asleep, he had been sitting here, his eyes fixed on her face, his mind still in a turmoil and the wood still untouched.

She looked so small, so fragile lying there, now wearing one of his spare shirts along with her own breeches. The expression on her face when she had finally been awake enough to realise the damage he had dealt her own tunic during… the incident, had been priceless indeed, but he had avoided her questions with a cool glare and some short, scathing remarks. How could she expect him to explain something to her that he could not even begin to understand?

However, he had realised how uncomfortable she had felt, with her tunic being torn almost down to her navel – not that she had been much to look at, anyway – and so had thrown her one of his own shirts from his backpack, not able to keep the smirk from his face when she had fought to pull the piece of cloth over her head, her cheeks flaming and her fingers shaking.

He did not feel much like smirking now, sitting here in the damp cold without a fire, and watching the woman whose decisions had shaped the past years of his life.

_Pathetic_, whispered the voice in his head, _here you are, always bragging about your famous independence, and you did not even realise what she was doing to you._

_Shut up_, he replied silently, baring his teeth in a snarl, _she did nothing to me. It's all about Duncan, remember? I don't care a fig for her well-being._

_No? So you don't care that she doesn't seem to be breathing anymore?_

_Wha…_

He was up and kneeling beside her before he even realised that he had moved, his heart hammering in his chest when he leaned down over the sleeping woman. Keridwen's face looked still ashen in the light of the moon, her lips now carrying a blueish tint, and he only relaxed when he was close enough to hear the soft hiss of her breath and feel her pulse steadily under the tips of his fingers when he reached for the smooth skin of her neck.

Only then his mind seemed to catch up with his actions, and he sat back on his heels, staring dumbfounded at the slender form at his feet.

_Hells._

_Blasted, burning, bloody hells._

This wasn't good, not good at all. Not only did he have no need for any further complications, Keridwen's skin had felt like ice under his hand, even though she was tightly wrapped into the sheets of his bedroll.

For a moment, he battled with indecision, a deep frown on his face. Then he reached resolutely for the clasp of his cloak, draping it over her sleeping form before slipping carefully between the sheets, taking painstaking care not to wake her until she was firmly pressed with her back against his chest and his arms loosely closed around her, suppressing a shiver as his body tried to warm her frozen limbs.

What would be the sense in carrying her all this way just to have her catching a cold, or even worse, pneumonia?

The moments slowly ticked by, and Bishop tried his best to lie still, listening intently for any hitch in her breath that told him that she would wake up, but Keridwen kept inhaling and exhaling slowly, another clear sign for her exhaustion.

She did not only look small and fragile in her present state. His body framed hers easily, with the tip of her head just coming up to his chin, and he suppressed a curse when he breathed in her scent, some parts of his body reacting almost instinctively to her closeness.

Who would have thought that things would turn out this way when he had offered her to lead her away from all this - the two of them alone somewhere out in the wilds, fighting for their lives and ending up together in his bedroll?

It was an idea that had never truly crossed his mind, simply because she had never given him any indication that she would even be slightly interested in any activities like this – at least not with him – but now that he had her so close in his arms, he could not deny that some parts of him seemed to find the idea very entertaining.

_Should have visited the Mask the last time we came through Neverwinter._

Not that this here would ever happen. The idea of touching her, of seeing whether he could actually break through her shell and melt the ice of her calm exterior was strangely enticing, but he knew without doubt that Keridwen would never be interested in a fling. She would expect him to take this seriously, would probably ask him to make a commitment of sorts – and what would he do if she did?

Could not say that he had much experience with that.

In all his long years, he'd preferred to keep his business with women simply sexual, and that was why he usually visited a brothel whenever he felt the need – no whining in the morning when he was packing his bag, only the exchange of coins for the good that had been delivered and maybe a warm welcome back when he returned from another travel.

Casual acquaintances. No complications. He really preferred things that way.

The only time in his life where he had sort of been involved with a woman had been the time when he had worked with Malin, and that were no memories he actually liked to dwell on.

He should simply get up, return to his post. Keridwen felt much warmer already, and it was still his watch. Someone needed to stay alert. And yet he simply stayed were he was, cradling her in his arms, the heat between them leaving his body tingling. It had been a while since he had held a woman like this, and strangely enough, it felt good to imagine that he was holding her because she wanted him to… because she needed him.

_Just one moment,_ he thought, closing his eyes when he pulled her a little closer against his chest, his face now buried in the soft curls of her hair. _Then I'll get up, and this will be over. Just a little while longer._

*****


End file.
